iGo To A Wedding
by xXACCEBXx
Summary: Sequel to iGo To Prom. After the best summer of their lives, Sam and Freddie part ways. They go about their lives, ignoring, but never forgetting their feelings for each other, until a meddling friend invites them both to her wedding. What will happen?
1. Past and Present

**Okay, I'm usually not one to write sequels, and honestly, I didn't think there was a way to make a sequel for this story, but thanks to GIVEmeSEDDIEorGIVEmeDEATH [awesome penname by the way], I came up with an idea, not the same idea, but one that is similar and hopefully better. I especially want to write this because of the Seddierific episode iThink They Kissed. This story is a future fic, about eight to ten years after iGo To Prom, and the first chapter is inspired by the Trisha Yearwood song "This Is Me You're Talking To." Listen to it while you read. This story won't get updated as fast as the last one obviously; school and such, and you've been warned, but I'm looking forward to it nonetheless. That being said, enjoy.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter One: Past and Present**

"_You know, a year ago, I never would have thought I would be doing this. I may have HOPED, but I never THOUGHT…" I laughed nervously as he swept his lips along my jaw line. I wanted him so badly, but I was already toughening myself for the blow. Tomorrow he was leaving. And I was staying. It was unavoidable._

_I pulled his arms closer around me as the glow of the sun rising reached the horizon. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and I prayed to God he wouldn't notice. Or at least he knew me well enough not to acknowledge it. I knew he noticed when he took one of my hands, but that was all he did, and I was grateful._

"_When does your plane leave?" I said softly. I already knew the answer. I'd known the answer all summer, but I needed to hear it one final time._

_He hesitated before answering me, "8:30."_

_I nodded and we sat there silently for another few minutes, just trying to memorize each other before it would all be over. For the first time in a relationship, I knew I was leaving it long before it burned out. I still loved him. I would always love him._

_There was a knock on the windowpane and we turned around. It was Carly, still in her pajamas, but due to the shadows under her eyes, I doubt she had slept either._

"_Freddie, your mom came by looking for you. I don't think you want her to find you guys like this…" she said quietly before she turned and walked away. She was right. We'd decided not to tell Freddie's mom about our relationship for obvious antibacterial issues. It wasn't like we'd be able to last past the summer anyway._

_I stood up and he stared up at me, a serious expression on his face. He took my hand and ran his lips over my knuckles. Oh, I missed him already._

_He stood up and pulled me close, kissing my hair and trying not to cry. I could feel his breath shuddering as he tried to hold back tears. He was better than I was, because I could taste salt on my lips as tears ran down my face. He pulled back and wiped them away with his thumb._

"_I still love you," he whispered before kissing my eyelids. I already knew that, but I could still hear my heart flutter when he said it._

"_Yeah?" asked, trying to force a smile. He nodded and I could feel my carefully placed mask shatter and I pulled him closer before shouting, "Oh God, I love you!"_

_He took my hands in his and kissed me softly, trying to pretend it wasn't the last. He pulled away and stared into my eyes and I nodded. He clenched my hands one more time before he turned to go inside, looking back at me as he stepped through the window, and I wanted to call him back so badly._

"_Freddie, come back!" I could hear myself screaming in my head, though my lips were unmoving. "Freddie…Freddie…Freddie…"_

"…Freddie…Freddie…" I jumped awake at a loud ding and almost hit my head on the bottom of the overhead compartment. The man in the seat next to me pulled out one of his headphones and looked at me, concerned, but I shrugged and grabbed the Sky Mall hastily, to avoid further embarrassment.

I thought back to that dream, which I was having for the umpteenth time, and trying to forget for the umpteenth time. I had had that dream after every failed relationship, every bad first kiss, every time I sat in my bed alone reading _Pride & Prejudice_ and crying myself to sleep.

It had been almost a decade since that night, and I still remembered it like it was yesterday. I could still feel his fingertips as they wiped away my tears and his lips as they swept across my jaw line. And I could see the tears glistening in his eyes as he turned back to see me one last time.

I didn't know why I was rehashing these old feelings. Good old Fredward was probably married with two-and-a-half kids by now. The next girl he kissed had probably fallen as hard as I had, and she had probably been smart enough not to let him go like I had. The bitch.

Who was I kidding? The whole reason I was on this airborne death trap was for that godforsaken institution of which I vowed never to be a part of. Then again, I "vowed" while I was dead drunk after an especially heinous breakup. All I knew is that I'd never thought of the m-word as a possibility since that first love, which was sort of ridiculous considering I was barely legal at the time. But I had. I had written "Sam Benson" across every scrap of paper I could find that summer. That amazing summer.

I was pulled out of my nostalgia overload by the flight attendant, who started calling out landing procedures. I wiped a tear from under my eyelid hastily before closing the tabletop and staring out the window as the Seattle skyline appeared from under the clouds.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath counting the seconds until I felt the wheels hit the runway. I only opened my eyes when the doors opened and I was safe on the ground. I could almost smell the coffee beans.

It took me another two hours before I could find a cab to take me to my hotel. Silly me, I thought the blushing bride would come pick me up at the airport, but she was busy picking out floral arrangements or something. Not to mention that trying to find a cab at an airport was like trying to find a taco in Canada, not impossible, but pretty damn close.

When I got to the hotel, I was happily surprised. God bless Carly Shay for marrying into money. A bellhop met the cab and took my bags, and I glanced up at the two dozen stories. Maybe, just maybe, he was on one of them.

I stopped when I realized it. It had never occurred to me that I would have to see him here. But it made sense. He was as much Carly's friend as I was. Of course he would be there. In a tux. Oh, he looked so good in a tux.

Hotel. Checking in. Right. I went in and found myself at a gilded front desk, checking into a hotel that I could never afford. The cheery redhead at the counter had had her perky juice this morning, and took one look at my non-designer duds and smirked.

"There is no public bathroom, I'm sorry," she said a little too cheerily.

"Oh no, I'm checking in. I'm here for the Emerson wedding," I said with my best fake smile. I saw her bright green eyes open in shock. Oh, yes, I was name-dropping.

"O-of course," she said, trying to collect herself. "Your name please?"

I gave her my name and she looked it up in her computer, "You seem to be sharing a suite with a Mr…"

Another receptionist came out behind the next computer and asked the person that had just walked up behind me, "Sir, can I help you?"

"I'm checking in," I heard the man say. My breath got caught in my throat as I fought the urge to turn around. I knew that voice. Oh god, I knew that voice.

I didn't even have to hear Miss Perky say who I was sharing the suite with, I knew.

"And your name is, sir?" the woman behind the counter asked. I gulped, awaiting the answer.

"Benson. Freddie Benson."

-

I answered the woman hazily, as I tried to shake the smell of coconut out of my head. It smelled exactly like Sam's shampoo. It had been so many years, but I could tell that smell from any other.

As the woman looked my name up in her computer, I looked around to see where the sweet scent was coming from. My eyes were drawn to a tall blonde standing next to me. Her blue eyes flitted back and forth between me and the desktop. Was she checking me out? And then my eyes caught hers.

"Sir, you seem to be sharing a suite with a…"

"Sam Puckett," I breathed. I saw a smile pulling at her cheek before she answered, "Freddie Benson."

I turned back to the counter quickly and took the keys I was handed. I placed one of the keys in her palm, and felt a spark shoot up through my fingertips. So much for the past being the past.

We took a few steps toward the elevators to get away from the perky twins, before I stopped and started the awkward conversation we both knew would follow.

"So, you think Carly's been plotting again?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure. You know, we could probably ask the Perksters to give us separate rooms…" she said, though I could tell she didn't mean it. I really hoped she didn't because for the next week, I didn't want to be without her.

"Actually, I think we have a lot of catching up to do," I said, as I took her hand carefully. I knew we couldn't start back up where we left off, but I couldn't help but hope we could have an ounce of what we had that summer.

Because as hard as it was for me to admit it to myself, I was still in love with her.

**Hmm…probably a crappy chapter, but I needed an introduction. I'd love some reviews, and wonder if I should go on with this, or take it off and pretend everything ended at Prom. I don't know, you guys better tell me.**


	2. Memories and Mischief

**Those reviews made me smile :] They were all so amazing, and now, of course, I HAVE to finish the story. I hope you still enjoy it, and please keep reviewing. Starts in Freddie's POV.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter Two: Memories and Mischief**

I tried to focus my eyes on my knees, but they kept finding Sam's ankles, then led up her calves, to her crossed knees and followed the edge of her skirt. Even on our best date I'd never seen her in a skirt, let alone one that short. I'd seen her in less, of course, but never in the middle of a public place, let alone the lobby of an upscale hotel.

"Eyes up here Fredward," she said, kicking me in the shin and adding, "Five minutes together, and your mind has already gone south of the border."

I grinned as I caught her eyes, but I had a feeling that her thoughts weren't as clean as she let on, "Well, you look different…"

"What can I say, I'm eight years older. Gravity is a bitch…" she said, hiding her face, but I pulled her hand back and caught her eyes.

"You're beautiful," I said quietly. "You were beautiful then, and you're even more beautiful now."

She stared at me for a second before she shook her head, trying to replace a thought, and smiled, "So Fredward, how have you been?"

"I've been," I answered, releasing her wrist and relaxing back into the armchair. "I finally paid off my first set of student loans, still paying for my masters. But I have a job at a local news station, and it pays well I guess. I'm totally independent of my mother, though she did move out to Boston to be with me, but in a different apartment. Life is good."

She hesitated, and I knew what her next question would be, "So, is there a Mrs. Freddie Benson?"

I hesitated, just to judge her anticipation, "There is not. There almost was, but it got to the point where we either had to get married, or break up, so…we broke up. I loved her…but I wasn't IN love with her, you know?"

She nodded, "Well, not from experience. The guys in my firm all seem to think I'm sleeping with my boss, because God help us if a woman was moving up in the ladder because she was cunning in the courtroom. Seriously, my boss's mistress is only a secretary."

"So, there's no Mr. Sam Puckett?" she smiled at my joke and shook her head.

"I put in way too many hours at the office to date, and I haven't had a solid boyfriend in…years," she said, acknowledging how pathetic she thought that was.

"That's okay, being alone isn't a death sentence…or so I've been told," I said, smiling in understanding. I changed the subject. "So, have you heard much about Carly's fiancé?"

She shook her head, "Only what I've heard from _People_. Parker Emerson. He's the heir to Pinkbunny. He seems like a good enough guy, but his brother Charlie seems like a piece of work. They're like Nikki and Paris. And he has an older sister, Alice. She's Carly's matron of honor."

"And how did Carly come across an heir to a froyo empire?" I asked. I knew Carly was marrying someone with money, but I didn't know the magnitude.

"She was working at one of their stores when his dad made him go around and do random inspections. She managed to get really flustered and he ended up with strawberry frozen yogurt all over his Italian suit. I don't know how it got from there to a billion dollar wedding, but Carly seems extremely happy."

"I'm glad. Speaking of, do you think she's trying to set us up?"

She shook her head and smiled at me, and I could feel a sarcastic comment coming on, "No Freddie, I'm sure she put us in the same room to economize."

"I'm sure there's a couch," I said, and I could predict her response.

"For your sake, I hope it's comfortable," she smiled, before her phone went off and she answered it.

"Hey Carly. Yeah, I'm at the hotel. Oh, yes. Oh, of course I love surprises. He's right here…Where? Oh, okay. We'll meet you in the lobby. Oh, I have a surprise for you too. You'll have to wait till you get here. Alright, I'll see you in a few."

She hung up and smiled at me, "What was that about?"

"Carly and Parker want to take us to dinner tonight. They're picking us up in about twenty minutes."

I could tell from her smirk that she was planning something, "Sam, what are you up to?"

"Revenge."

-

Fifteen minutes later, we had the entire staff watching us in amusement as they waited for Carly to arrive. I was still sort of shocked that Freddie was going along with this, but I think he'd become a lot more spontaneous while we were dating.

I looked over at him, and I forced myself not to giggle, but I cracked a smile. He had stolen a shirt out of my carry on, which was pink and ultimately too small for him, along with a pair of skinny jeans one of the bellhops had in his locker. We'd also managed to find a scarf and a fedora, and by God, he looked gayer than Lance Bass and all three members of JONAS...combined.

He looked me up and down and forced out his own chuckle. I had stolen a pillow from a cleaning lady and had shoved it under my shirt. I looked a good six months along.

I turned to Freddie, "This'll teach her to meddle."

The doorman signaled us as the limo pulled up, and we pulled ourselves together one last time before she came in. I watched as Freddie looked at my legs and mimicked my crossed knees uncomfortably. I smiled before I put my hand over my pillow bump maternally. This was going to be good.

I recognized her immediately as she came through the revolving doors, and thanks to the tabloids, I recognized Parker Emerson behind her. I watched her as she searched the room before she saw us. I hiccupped a laugh as her eyes shot open. She looked me up and down first, before doing the same to Freddie, and she was frozen where she stood.

I used the hand that wasn't stroking my pillow baby, and waved heartily. I looked over at Freddie, who was about to turn into Charizard he was so flaming.

I tried to stand up, and faked a fall backward, so Freddie stood up and helped me up, squeezing my hand to remind me not to laugh.

I toddled my way over to Carly and pulled her into a hug, "Surprise!"

She pulled back and looked me up and down, "Sam! You look...different. H-how far along are you?"

"Six months! Can you believe it?! I always thought you would be the first! But I guess not!" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Freddie holding back a shitload of laughter, and one of the bellhops was already dying.

"Who is the father?" she asked hesitantly. She must have gone through a dozen ways to say that in her head before settling on that one. It still sounded horrible.

"Actually, that's the funny part, I have no idea. I'm very _Mamma Mia _about the whole thing. There were a few guys around that time. I'm just hoping the kid comes out black, because that'll narrow down the sperm pool a little bit!"

By now Freddie was crying, trying not to laugh. I saw him try to pull himself together as Carly shook her head at me, before pasting a smile on her face.

She took one more look at me before switching to Freddie, "Freddie, you don't have any shockers for me, do you?"

"Oh, Carly," he said. He sounded like Ross the Intern. "I would never do that to you! You look utterly amazing by the way. Are those Jimmy Choo's?"

He hugged her tightly and then took her hands to look her up and down. She looked speechless.

"Uh, yeah…" she said quietly. "Freddie, I don't know how to ask this…but are you…are you…I mean, you're…"

"Am I what? Happy to see you? Of course!" he said, putting his hands on his hips. He was too good. He leaned in close to her and stage whispered, "And man did you find a hottie!"

Parker's eyes shot open and he shook his head before pulling out his Blueberry to make himself look busy.

"No, Freddie, are you…gay?" Carly said as she tried to contain how freaked out she was.

He waved her off with a giggle, "I hope so, or my boyfriend is going to be totally disappointed!"

She took a second and looked at Freddie and me before she pasted a smile on her face and stuttered, "Y-you guys haven't changed a bit!"

At that point, neither of us could hold back any more, and we both fell onto the couch, laughing so hard we were crying.

"Can I change out of these now? I can't feel certain parts of my body anymore!" Freddie choked out in his normal voice.

I pulled the pillow out from under my shirt and said, "Yeah, I was afraid the pillow was going to give me morning sickness!"

Carly shook her head, and I noticed that even Parker was laughing. She gave him one of her familiar glares and he answered it with, "I'm sorry honey, you should have seen your face!"

I got up and hugged Carly, "That's for meddling. It's good to see you again Carly."

She kept shaking her head, but started to smile, "Oh yeah, you guys definitely haven't changed."

I looked at her and then at Parker and she got the hint, "Oh! Freddie, Sam, this is Parker, my fiancé. Parker, this is Sam and Freddie."

He finally stopped laughing and hugged me before shaking Freddie's hand. He looked even better than he did in pictures, with his short reddish-blond hair and blue eyes. There was a sprinkle of childish freckles across his nose, and a crooked smile on his face. And the guy worked out. I could tell it took a good tailor to keep his sleeves that loose.

"If it says anything for my character, I told her to give you two separate rooms," he said, unable to stop smiling.

"No, it's fine," I answered, looking at Freddie. "We like staying up late and watching movies. It'll be like a sleepover."

Carly chuckled indignantly, "Yeah, that's what you did on Prom night."

Freddie and I both glared at her while she smiled innocently. She was pretending she'd never said it. Typical.

Freddie and I took shy looks at each other, leaving the group in a very awkward silence. Parker, being the outsider of the group, found this even more awkward than the rest of us. He cleared his throat.

"Our reservation is at eight. We should probably get going," we all nodded, and Carly and Parker headed toward the doors.

I stopped and turned to Freddie, laughing, and I told them to stop.

"Guys, Freddie still looks like he stepped off of Queer Eye. Could we maybe get him back to normal before we do this extremely transparent double date?"

Carly mimicked shock, before laughing. Freddie thanked me quickly before he took his carry on and went back to the staff locker room to replace the jeans. I continued to smile.

When he came into sight, Carly and Parker resumed walking toward the doors, but I stayed back. Freddie sprinted over to me, smiling. He was back to his good old manly self.

I held out my fist and he pounded it, saying, "That was awesome."

I hesitated before I asked him something I'd been wondering about, "How were you so…good at that?"

"Oh, yeah," he said nervously. "One of the anchors is gay, and since I'm the producer, I'm supposed to make sure his flamboyant tendencies aren't visible to the TV audience. I just went down my own no-no list."

"Oh, good…"

"Why? You didn't think I was…"

I interrupted, "No, though it wouldn't be the first time I'd turned a man gay."

He looked at me, and nodded. I waited for the delayed reaction.

When we were halfway to the car, he stopped and turned to me, "Wait, what?"

I laughed and shook my head before I got into the limo, "Oh Freddie, we have A LOT of catching up to do…"

**Okay guys, I thought I'd give you another chapter before school started again for the week, because I don't know how soon I'll be able to update. But, hint hint, I do update sooner when I get reviews, which is another reason I rushed this one. I hope you liked it.**


	3. Limos and LateNights

**I love the response this story is getting! Sorry it took me a while to update, but I've had some pre-pneumonia pseudo-swine flu crap, and whenever I wasn't in school, I was pretty much dead. Okay, that's not completely true. I did write a oneshot, but that's it I swear. Anyway, I really hope you like this. Once again, Freddie's POV.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter Three: Limos and Late-Nights**

I stared across the dark car at her, remembering the last time I'd ridden in a limo. Back then, Carly had been conspiring against us, rather that for us. But I couldn't. I couldn't go through that again.

But as I looked over at her, glancing out the window absently, her face dancing in the passing streetlights, I couldn't help but want her.

Could I turn my back on everything I'd once felt for her, still felt for her? She looked down and straightened her skirt and she had one of those rare vulnerable moments. Her knee was bobbing nervously and I reached over to stop it. She caught my eyes and smiled, and I knew I couldn't do that to either one of us.

I tried to forget how much pain those first months of college had caused me. At the last minute, I almost transferred so we could be closer, but she wouldn't hear of it. I was at my east coast dream school, and she was at her west coast haven. We might have thrown it all away, but it was only one summer. We both thought we'd fall in love again, with someone else, somewhere else, but neither of us had, and I had to wonder if it meant something.

But it couldn't. I was still an east coast workaholic, and she was still a west coast climber. The way she made it sound, she was close to being a partner, and I was almost head producer. It would be impossible to start where we'd left off and not get hurt.

I shook the thoughts out of my head. If I was going to get through tonight, I was going to have to forget about those gnawing feelings in my gut. I was going to enjoy myself, even if it killed me.

When we pulled up to the restaurant and I couldn't pronounce the name of it, I knew we were in trouble. I could tell that Carly was already used to these places, but Sam looked just as disgusted as I did. This looked like the kind of place they served fish eggs and octopus. If I knew Sam, she wouldn't have any of it.

When Parker gave his name to the hostess, she smiled conspiratorially. I looked over at Carly, and she was trying her best to look innocent.

"I'm sorry Mr. Emerson, we're overbooked tonight. I'm afraid you won't be able to sit together. Do you mind?"

Sam and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes when Carly asked, "Oh, that sucks! Do you guys mind?"

"Of course not," we both answered, and I saw a flicker of deviousness flash across Carly's eyes.

"Oh, great! It's funny how these things work out," she said transparently. Even Parker rolled his eyes.

I grabbed Sam's elbow and pulled her back a little so we were out of earshot as the hostess led Carly and Parker to their table, "Do you think we'll have to put up with this all week?"

She covered my hand with hers, "No, I'm sure we'll have to put up with this all week. But there are worse people to be thrown together with."

"Your seventh grade self would kill you if she heard that," I said jokingly.

"No," she said as the hostess came back for us. "She'd be too busy killing you."

I laughed as we released each other and followed her to our table. Once again, the Emerson fortune was at work, because I could see that it was just far enough from Carly's table that we would think we were alone, but close enough that she could see everything.

I helped her into her chair and sat down, sitting up straight to try and block Carly's view of us, "I feel like we're in a fish bowl."

She nodded before opening her menu, "Do you know French? Or…Italian? Spanglish?"

"Why?"

"Because the entire menu is in one of those languages, or you know, another one I don't know."

I opened my own menu and gave up after only being able to make out the word 'chicken,' and trust me, it was a lone reference. I looked over my shoulder to see if Carly was watching before I conspiratorially leaned toward Sam.

"Do you want to get out of here?" her eyes popped open and she smiled.

She leaned around me to make sure Carly wasn't looking, adding, "You know she'll kill us right?"

"No, she'll think we eloped. Come on, don't you want a big greasy hamburger rather than…" I attempted to read something off the menu but failed horribly, and she laughed.

"I guess I haven't changed that much, have I?" she said, slowly raising her purse over her arm while I checked one more time to check to see if Carly was watching, before I took her hand and we made a break for it.

I could hear her giggling as we got out of earshot, darting between tables. Once we got out the door, she collapsed against the brick wall laughing. I leaned against the wall for support as I laughed too. I looked at her, blushing pink from laughing, and her eyes caught mine. The laughter suddenly died away.

In a moment, I remembered every feeling I'd ever had for her. From hatred to the deepest love I've ever felt, I saw in her eyes. I started to lean toward her, and her lips parted hopefully, but I jerked backward. I couldn't. I couldn't do this again.

It hurt to see the dejected look on her face, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I couldn't lead her on if I knew we wouldn't work out.

I tried to take her hand but she crossed her arms and stormed off. I followed, but every time I almost caught her she shrugged me off. This was not going well. I had to think of something to make her pause, even for just a second.

"You know, I still can't listen to that song!"

-

I spun around. Mr. Mixed-Signals was only a step behind me, and he caught me in his arms as I almost lost my balance. I thought to jerk myself away, but couldn't find the strength to do so.

"What song?" I asked breathlessly. Damn my voice. It and its friend 'blushing cheeks' should be hung for treachery.

"Our song," he said smirking, as if I'd really forgotten.

"It was a good song, wasn't it?" I said, breaking into a half smile, wishing I could have him back, but knowing I couldn't. I missed it. I missed that whole summer…

"_Sam! Give me my pants!" he screamed at me. I was already halfway to my car, clutching his jeans in my left hand, my keys in my right._

"_I knew you were still in love with her! I knew it!" I screamed, not bothering to turn around. If I turned around he would see my tears._

"_Sam," he screamed, as I angrily tried to shove my keys in the door. "Just wait a second! You're overreacting."_

_I got in the car but didn't start it. I was afraid he would jump in front of it, and I really didn't want to waste a life term on him at this point._

"_Sam, I just said her new haircut looked nice. Really, it's not that big of a deal," he said, trying to wiggle his fingers through my window, opened a crack for ventilation. Maybe it wouldn't have been a big deal if he hadn't said it right after he kissed me._

_To be completely honest, I was still hung up on the fact he'd been in love with Carly all those years. I knew I was falling for him hard, and I didn't want to be his substitute._

_I glared at him through the window and he sighed, "I love you Sam. Why can't you believe that?"_

_When I didn't answer him, he instructed me, "Okay Sam, take my PearPod out of my jeans pocket and hook it up to your car stereo."_

_Reluctantly, I reached into his pocket and took out his iPod. I turned my car on and plugged it in and he added, "My most played song, put it on."_

_I looked at the screen. "If I Fell" by The Beatles. I knew I heard it before, but I couldn't remember it. I listened to the words._

_**If I fell in love with you,  
Would you promise to be true  
And help me understand?**_

_**'Cause I've been in love before  
And I found that love was more  
Than just holdin' hands.**_

_**If I give my heart  
To you,  
I must be sure  
From the very start  
That you  
Would love me more than her.**_

_**If I trust in you  
Oh, please,  
Don't run and hide.  
If I love you too  
Oh, please,  
Don't hurt my pride like her**_

_**'Cause I couldn't stand the pain  
And I  
Would be sad if our new love  
Was in vain.**_

_I looked up at him, staring at me, hoping I would get the message. I couldn't help but smile and I unlocked the door. He pulled me out and pulled me into his arms, swaying to the music._

_He started to whisper the lyrics in my ear._

_**  
So I hope you see  
That I  
Would love to love you  
And that she  
Will cry  
When she learns we are two**_.

**_'Cause I couldn't stand the pain  
And I  
Would be sad if our new love  
Was in vain._**

**_So I hope you see  
That I  
Would love to love you  
And that she  
Will cry  
When she learns we are two.  
If I fell in love with you_**

_As the song ended, we pulled back, and I started apologizing, but he simply covered my lips with his and I knew I was forgiven._

"_Ugh," I said as we pulled away, a smile on my lips. "You know what that means? We have a song. How cheesy is that?"_

_He leaned in to kiss me again and whispered, "I'm starting to like cheesy."_

I blinked, trying to bring myself back to the dimly lit Seattle street and away from my old driveway. I looked at Freddie and he was smiling.

"You okay?"

"Sorry, just a little flashback," I said, letting him take my hand again.

"You too?" he said, and I laughed. He did too, and I realized how much I'd missed this too. After torturing him through most of our adolescence, we were shockingly chill after Prom. It was nice to find I still loved spending time with him.

"Do you think the Groovy Smoothie is open? Maybe we could actually buy something from T-Bo for once."

"I think the Groovy Smoothie is always open. I'm pretty sure T-Bo lives under the counter and just pops out whenever he's needed."

I laughed as we headed toward our old hangout, feeling seventeen all over again.

Sadly, it was closed, but after a few minutes of pounding on the door, T-Bo opened and shoved us a few smoothies and corn dogs…for the right price of course. The man was an extortionist, but I was hungry. And Freddie was smart enough not to argue with my stomach.

We ate as we walked, not really sure where we were going until we were there. When we looked up, we were standing at the doors of Bushwell Apartments.

"It wouldn't be a stroll down memory lane without it," he said, nudging me. I smiled and nodded.

We tried to buzz in Spencer's apartment, but he must not have been home because he wasn't answering. Instead, I shouldered the door until Lewbert came to see what was going on. When he opened the door, we burst through and skittered toward the freight elevator, taking it up to the Shay's old apartment.

I remember Carly telling me that Spencer had gotten married, but I guess I didn't believe it until I saw his apartment. It was too clean. All of his sculptures looked too simple. I was comforted by the fact the bottle robot was still in the corner, but it looked like most of the other sculptures had been moved. Freddie looked almost as disheartened as I did.

"Should we go up and see the studio?"

"I don't know. Who knows what he's done to it by now?" I shrugged, but took one look up the stairs and took them two at a time. If I was going to get caught breaking and entering, it wouldn't be for nothing.

I sighed in relief when we got to the studio. Though some of it was being used as sculpture storage, most of it looked the same as it always had. I walked over to the car and let my hand drift over the front bumper. I looked up to see Freddie next to his now empty cart. Our eyes connected.

"So many memories…" I started, looking around, wishing we could back to when we were here. When we were kids and loving him was so simple.

"Yeah," he answered, his finger drifting over an invisible keyboard. "Hey, you know, I still have that video somewhere on my computer."

"What video?" I asked, looking up at him as he blushed. "Oh THAT video. You didn't put it on the internet or something did you?"

I was kidding, but at the same time, I hoped he hadn't. That video was quite…incriminating.

"Do I really seem like the kind of guy who would post…something like that…on the internet?" he asked, his eyes wandering to the bean bags. Oh yes. We did.

"Freddo, you didn't seem like the kind of guy who would make…something like that…until you hit record."

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, "I even surprised myself on that one."

"That makes two of us," I said, smiling as I crossed the room and nudged him. "You know where we have to go now right?"

He smiled as he picked me up in his arms and carried me toward the fire escape, while I muttered, "You are such a freak Fredward."

He set me down to help me through the window before climbing through. He leaned over the railing to stare at the taxis below, and his face was lit up in the moonlight. There was a scruffy beard forming on his chin, and the hints of laugh lines around his eyes, but he was still my Freddie. And that's what made this all so hard.

He looked up and I caught his brown eyes staring into mine, before he turned away and shook something out of his mind. So he did feel the same way!

I looked over the side of the railing at the surrounding buildings, "You know, I forgot how beautiful everything was."

He turned and stared at me, taking a step toward me before whispering, "I didn't."

I could have sworn he was about to kiss me, but he was becoming predictable in his unpredictability, and sure enough he pulled away, but this time I was ready for it.

I turned away and sighed, "Maybe we should go back to the hotel."

He nodded, and I tried not to look angry and I went back through the window.

-

_Damn it Fredward. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it._

I punched my pillow with the pretense of fluffing it, trying to release some of the tension that I could feel was brewing everywhere. Damn her and her soft lips, her soft everything…

I heard the door creak open behind me as she tried to hide most of her body behind the door. She must have brought some very revealing pajamas, considering she had expected her own room. Maybe this wouldn't be all bad.

"You comfortable?" she asked and I nodded, adjusting the blanket to show her that the couch would do no permanent damage. "Alright then, goodnight."

I heard her close the door, and I smiled. I wondered…

I tucked myself in under the covers and pretended to be asleep, just quietly waiting. Ten minutes later, like clockwork, I heard the door open.

"Freddie?" I made sure my breathing was shallow, and held back the answer.

I heard her creep over and sit on the edge of the couch. I felt her sweep her fingernails along my jaw and I did my best not to cover her hand with my own. She used to do this all the time when we were together, watch me as I slept. I sort of missed it.

I felt her lean down and sweep her lips over my forehead before I heard her whisper, "I missed you."

I couldn't help myself anymore, and I smiled, "I missed you too Sam. Now go to sleep. We have wedding planning to do in the morning."

She gasped before she jumped up and crept out of the room. I opened one eye to watch her figure retreat back into the bedroom, before I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

_I missed you too Sam. I missed you too._

**Haha, I'm such a dirty rotten tease aren't I? ****But there was quite a bit of development in this chapter wasn't there? I liked the bit in the studio, where my mind was stuck in the gutter. And I'm so sorry for the lack of updates, but if it makes you feel better, I didn't have any free time whatsoever. Okay, so I doubt that makes you feel better, but please don't hate me. On the contrary, I think you should review. Wink wink nudge nudge. Luvz ya!**


	4. Bridesmaids and Bartenders

**I've found that there's never a good enough excuse for lack of updates. So I'm just gonna go with it. Thank iLoveRomance2oo9 for MAKING me update :) Chapter starts in Sam's POV for once.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter Four: Bridesmaids and Bartenders**

I'll admit, it's been a while since I've been woken up to a pillow in the face. There were very few people who would risk it. That being said, I didn't even have to open my eyes to know who was waking me up at the ungodly hour of…two.

"Carly, if you don't have bacon, get out," I said, reaching to smack her without opening my eyes.

She flipped me over and handed me a bag of bacon. I looked at her, then at the bag, before snatching it away and falling upon it like a lioness on a gazelle. Oh yes, mama loves her bacon.

"What are you doing here? Did Freddork let you in?" I said through pieces of pork. She shoved me over to sit down on my bed, and I let her.

"No, I texted him earlier and told him to meet Parker at the golf course. He's been gone for a good five hours. But it's amazing how much the loyalty of these maids is worth."

"Less than twenty?"

"Sadly. So, how did your night go last night…" she tapered off the end. She wanted me to fill in the blanks.

"We bribed T-Bo for corn dogs, broke into your brother's apartment…you know, the usual," I said, finishing the bacon.

"Oh of course…wait, you did what?"

"Oh, we didn't disturb anything. He wasn't home and we wanted to check out the studio. Didn't realize it'd become the sculpture graveyard…"

"Yeah, Elyse is very supportive of Spencer's career, but she does have some standards. Good for her I say."

I stopped for a second to remember the old times, "That place has a lot of memories, you know?"

"Speaking of, did you and Freddie stir up any…memories last night?" she said, averting her eyes like she had when she asked if I'd enjoyed that first kiss. Answer: Yes m'am. For both instances actually.

"It's a bad idea Carly. I know that, he knows that, you should probably warm up to the idea…" I said, sort of sidestepping the question.

"That's not how you made it sound this morning…" she said smirking.

"What do you mean? I haven't said very much," I didn't understand her until her smirk got bigger. "Oh no, I wasn't…"

"You'd think after all these years you could control the sleep talking. Seriously, you should never be trusted with national secrets," she was enjoying this.

I hesitated, but I had to ask, "W-what did I say exactly?"

"Not much. You mumbled something along the lines of _Mmm…Freddie _and something about tasting like ham that I really don't want to think about."

I laughed at the snapshot of the dream I managed to remember and Carly shook her head, "I REALLY don't want to know."

I looked over at the clock, remembering that she must have come over here for a reason. And why did I have a feeling it was related to Freddie's absence?

"Carly, not to beat around the bush, but why are you here? And what did you do with m-the dork?" _My _dork. Way to go. Just feed the meddling bride-to-be.

"Were you about to say 'MY dork?'" she said, smirking. As if she would miss something like that.

"Carly, why are you here?"

"Well, you know how I always wanted seven bridesmaids, you know, lucky seven?" I nodded. "Well, I only had six, and then it occurred to me…"

It only took me a second to realize what she was saying, "Really Carly? Are you sure? You've got to know that I'll manage to screw SOMETHING up."

"Come on Sam, it wouldn't be a real wedding without you there. Well, I'm sure it would be, but you get the sentiment."

"But Carly, it's four days until the wedding. How are you going to have a dress for me?"

"See, I'm finding that the name 'Emerson' is like cash in this city. The stylist said it would be no issue. We'll just stop by there later and she'll have it done by Friday."

There was one thing that was nagging at me though, "Carly, what kind of a groomsman do you have picked out for me?"

She started picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on her shoulder, and I sort of wanted to kill her. Because suddenly I knew the purpose of Freddie's golf outing.

"You are impossible, you know that?" I muttered. Of course she'd make me walk down the aisle with Fredward. Make us feel in the marriage mood or something…

"So I've been told," she said, smacking me with the pillow. "Now go get dressed. You have a dress to get fitted for."

"Oh yeah, because the dress is the issue," I grumbled.

Damn it, why did Carly have to be the big spoon that wanted to stir up all these feelings?

-

"Fore!"

I rubbed my head. I was so not made for golf, especially with all these trust fund freaks. Parker wasn't bad, but his friends were complete jerks.

"So your name is really Fredward?" This was the fourth friend to ask the question. This was the one I was call Bulk. The others had been dubbed Skull, Block, and Ralph. Buster couldn't make it. I'm sure their names were all along the lines of Howard or Alexander, but I wasn't going to give them that much credit. Oddly enough, Parker's brother Charlie was absent.

"Last time I checked," I muttered, brushing him off before taking my turn. Thank god we were on the seventeenth hole. If there had been more than eighteen, Ralph would have died.

God, Sam was probably still asleep. Just wait until she finds out Carly's latest plan. Parker had revealed it on the drive here, and I couldn't help but be surprised. This was a little desperate, even for Carly's standards. But I couldn't pretend I wasn't looking forward to seeing Sam in a dress again.

By the time we finished the last hole, I was back in fantasy mode. I was in the middle of a very vibrant fantasy involving whipped cream, when Parker nudged me.

"Hey, Carly told me to keep you busy for a few more hours. You wanna do something?" he looked sincere, but I had my doubts. My eyes wandered over to where his buddies were crushing beer cans against their skulls. Who brings beer to a golf outing?

His eyes followed mine, and he added, "Yeah, they're not coming."

I helped him put his clubs away, and asked, "Why not?"

"Because I don't feel like babysitting them. I barely know most of them. They're the rich kids of my parent's friends," he grumbled under his breath, before saluting to them and taking one of the golf carts, motioning for me to get in it.

I took one look at his idiot friends, and decided that it would be best to shut my mouth and go with it. We drove back to the clubhouse, but he quickly led me out to the parking lot.

"Are they following us?" he asked hurriedly, loading his clubs into the back of his Range Rover.

I turned and saw that no one was leaving the building, "No, I think we lost them."

"Good," he said, getting in. I took this to mean that I should get in too.

"Are they really that bad? I mean, I know they were assholes to me…" I caught his look and decided that yes, they really were that bad.

"I was serious about them being my parent's friends. Charlie usually distracts them, but he decided it wasn't worth it to be here today," he said as he pulled out of the driveway, still not telling me where we were going.

"Where is he?" I asked, deciding I would have to observe and learn with this guy.

"Charlie? I'm hoping he's at home. He called me at seven this morning and he hadn't been to bed yet," he said without feeling. He must have been used to this situation by now.

"Is he…okay?" I asked, unable to think of a common subject to change to.

"Oh yeah, he's fine, just really hung-over with all likelihood. He does this…often."

Tension hung heavy in the air, and I decided that any subject would be better than the current one.

"So, where are we going?" I said, clearing my throat nervously.

"We're running away to Brazil," he answered, and I had to look at him before I saw that he was smirking. "Kidding. You have to get a tux."

"Oh," I said, before I turned up the radio. This whole make-nice-with-the-groom concept wasn't going well. We pulled into the parking lot of the tailor's, and he got out. Once again, I took this as I should follow him.

When we got in the store, the person at the counter saw Parker and immediately got to work. The short man scurried around me, mumbling in a heavy Italian accent as he whipped a measuring tape around. I was sort of afraid for my life.

Within ten minutes, I was fitted for a tux, with the promise that it would be ready tomorrow. The Emerson's must have been high priority.

We got back in the car, but we only drove for a few blocks, before Parker pulled into the parking lot of a bar. I was sort of surprised. Even I used to come here once in a while when I visited.

As we walked in, I heard Mr. Mister playing in the background, and I followed Parker into a dark corner. I was starting to realize that he didn't like his celebrity status. It made me respect him just a little more.

"You want a drink?" he asked, and when I didn't answer, "You do drink, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," I said, and he called a bartender over. He must have known him. Parker looked at me and I stuttered, "Uh, beer, thanks…"

The bartender left and Parker turned to me, "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, realizing this wasn't much of an explanation, and added. "This is just so…normal."

He chuckled, "Freddie, if we're going to get anywhere here, you're going to have to realize that I am normal. That's why I love Carly so much. She doesn't want me for the fame, or the money. She wants me because she loves me. And as far as normal, when I met you, you were wearing skinny jeans and a pink t-shirt."

Now I felt guilty, "I'm sorry. From here on out, we're just two regular guys, in regular pants."

"Alright, for starters, I want to hear about Sam," I glared at him, and he rescinded. "No, NO, I mean, I love Carly, you love Sam…" I coughed and he rescinded again, "I mean…I'm wondering why Carly is trying so hard to set you guys up."

Alright. As long as he wasn't insinuating anything, I could answer him this much, as best as I could.

"Well, I'm sure Carly told you that I had a crush on her through middle school, and most of high school?" he nodded, and I continued. "Well, I was too distracted by Carly to even acknowledge Sam for most of that time, and it didn't help that she was constantly trying to make my life hell. Anyway, she was my first kiss, and then Carly forced me to find a prom date, and I went with Sam, even though I told myself it was because it was easy."

"But that night, I fell in love with her. Carly thought I was just trying to make her jealous, but really, I was just falling, hard. Anyway, Carly kissed me, and Sam saw, and we missed most of prom because we were, uh, making up," he smirked at this, and I went on. "So that whole summer, we were together, but then it came time to go to college, and we'd picked our colleges before we ever got together, so mine was in Boston, and hers was in California."

"I think it killed both of us to leave, but we were young, and we'd only been together for a summer. I always meant to come back, but then I was offered a big job at a network in Boston, and I heard that Sam was accepted to this big firm, and you know, we fell apart. But then your meddling fiancé decided to get us back together."

"Is it working?" he asked jokingly.

"It is, almost too well. Parker, let me be honest here, I don't want to fall for her again. We have separate lives now. We've built so much on our own, and it would all be destroyed if we were to get back together."

He looked at me before saying softly, "But wouldn't it be worth it?"

I shook my head, "I'm trying to convince myself that it wouldn't, but I'm smart enough to know the truth…but let's not talk about it."

"Hey, I don't think Carly should be meddling in the first place, but, if she is…you should know. Tonight, we're having a party at my place. Just close family and friends. Carly wanted me to invite you, but it's all a trick. She wants to set Sam up with my brother Charlie to make you jealous, but I know my brother. He loves 'em and leaves 'em. Don't let it happen."

"Why would Carly do that?" I asked, suddenly worried about her motives.

Parker laughed, "You don't get it do you?"

I shook my head.

"She knows you'll step in. Which leaves you two choices: you can either make Sam fall back in love with you, or you can let her get her heart broken."

-

"I'm not wearing this Carly!" I tried to argue, as I discovered Carly's newest plot. Hanging on the door of the dressing room stall was a dress that could easily have been cut from remnants of my prom dress. It was the same dark blue, with the same crystal accents.

"See, that's the thing with seven bridesmaids. I went with a subdued rainbow theme. You just happened to be blue. Isn't that a coincidence?"

"There seem to be a lot of those going around lately," I mumbled, before holding the dress up to my body. It was her wedding after all. What could I do?

I drew it on over my head, before walking out of the stall. Carly zipped me up and called an assistant over, who started pinning me in, even though it fit well as is.

"I don't know why you fight me on these things," Carly said. "Whatever my motives, you still look great in that dress. Freddie will…"

"Don't you dare," I said cutting her off.

"Fine!" she said, walking over to a jewelry rack. But I heard her finish under her breath, "He'll love it."

**Okay, now that I'm on break, maybe I'll update sooner, but I'm tired of making empty promises. Just know that I haven't forgotten this story, and I haven't forgotten all of the readers. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and I hope to update soon! Please review!**


	5. Crushes and Competition

**Hmm, I'm trying to disprove my record of not updating, by making it up to you with a quick one. And for all the waiting, you'll get something I'm sure you've been waiting for. Starts in Freddie's POV.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter Five: Crushes and Competition**

I leaned against the doorway, waiting for her to notice me. I wasn't stupid enough to intrude on her while she was getting ready. I was going to have tread lightly if I wanted to survive this conversation.

"So, are you planning on going to that party tonight?" I cautioned as I caught her eyes in the bathroom mirror. I really didn't need to ask, considering she was in the middle of getting ready.

"The party at Parker's house? Yeah, sure," she said, barely acknowledging me as she applied mascara.

I tried to find the best wording, before I tried, "Well, I don't think you should go…"

"Oh, you don't, do you?" she said, replacing the mascara and placing her hands on her hips. My attempts suddenly seemed futile. "Do you have any better suggestions on how I should spend my night?"

"Pizza, a movie…" I offered.

She smiled, as she twirled her foot against the tile of the bathroom floor. She was going for it. Perfect.

"That doesn't sound half bad…"

"Oh, good. Well I'll tell the receptionist to send up some movies on my way out," I said, rushing toward the door in a futile attempt to escape, but she grabbed me by the back of the shirt and pulled me back.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said, without letting go of me.

"Uh, to Parker's? I mean, there's no reason…" I said, stumbling around my words.

"Typical," she stated, letting go of me. "I'm going to that party…"

"I forbid you," I tried, summoning all the courage I could, but she just laughed sickly.

"You FORBID me?" she asked, and I nodded, before she finished. "I'll meet you at the car, asshole. He forbids me…"

I shook my head and followed her to the elevator. She refused to look at me, and the car ride was just as productive. There went Plan A. I tried to assemble Plan B as best I could as we pulled into the circle driveway into the Emerson's estate.

When the doorman opened the car door, Sam rushed out, and I followed far behind, knowing that if I didn't give her space, I was signing my own death warrant. Parker came over to me as I walked in the doors.

"What did you do?" he stated simply.

"What do you mean, 'What did I do'?" I accused, almost as mad as Sam. She always got her way, and this time it wasn't going to end well.

"I'm slowly learning that no matter what she's mad at, it's always your fault. The rule is transcendental Freddo," he answered, patting me on the back. He must have pissed Carly off earlier.

I submitted, "Fine, I tried to talk her out of coming tonight. I mean, I sort of FORBID her from coming, and she laughed in my face."

"Ouch," he said. He searched the room for a second before turning back to me, "You should know that my brother Charlie is here tonight. And from the way most of the bridesmaids are flustering, he is especially potent tonight."

He pointed behind me, and I turned. My eyes followed his finger to a man that looked much like Parker, if only a little more youthful. He had longer reddish-blond hair, but no freckles. Instead, he had a perfect Malibu tan, which was almost impossible in Seattle. He was wearing skinny-style gray dress pants and a light blue button-down, open at the top. The guy could have walked out of a Calvin Klein ad.

"That's your brother?" I bit at him. Then I felt guilty for snapping. It wasn't his fault he had good genetics.

"Yeah, you worried?"

I spun around and shook my head, "Sam doesn't like those kinds of guys..."

"And what kind of guys are those?" he asked smugly.

"You know, hot, rich, notoriously good in bed…You know what, maybe I should go find her," I said, finishing before I dug a bigger hole for myself.

"Maybe you should," he answered, and I nodded, hurriedly walking off to find Sam.

-

[Parker Sidebar]

It was then that Carly walked over to me.

"Was that Freddie?" she asked, handing me a glass of wine, her eyes following Freddie as he caught sight of Sam across the foyer.

"Uh, yeah, he's off to protect Sam from Charlie," I said, smirking.

"Why does Sam need to be protected from Charlie? He's harmless…" she said before she caught my eyes, and understood. "Hot damn, you are devious."

"What can I say? The guy doesn't know what's good for him. He'll thank me later."

-

I shoved Freddie's hand away from my back for the twelfth time. If anyone was ignorant of signals, it was him. I cut off mid-conversation with one of the other bridesmaids, to spin around and chastise him. I pulled him into a corner behind a large potted plant.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I said, smacking his still-hovering hand back into his pocket.

"I'm…protecting you," he tried, hopelessly.

"Protecting me? ME? From what?" I said, poking him in the side.

"Some of the guys here. I don't want them…looking at you," he said, as he tried to hover over me again. I stepped back and he almost fell over.

"And why can't other guys look at me? You obviously aren't!" I snapped, trying to turn away from him, but he turned me back. His mouth hung open like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. I shook my head and tried to walk off again, but he caught me by both shoulders.

"Look, Parker told me that Carly is trying to set you up with Charlie Emerson," he offered.

My eyes drifted behind Freddie to where Charlie was talking with his father. I caught a flicker of his bright blue eyes as they looked in my direction. He smiled, exposing a line of perfect teeth. I'd read the headlines. I knew Charlie Emerson was dangerous, but he would suit my purposes.

"Oh?" I answered Freddie, now obviously staring behind him. "Hmm…"

He jerked me back to face him, "Sam!"

I removed his hands from my shoulders, "Look Fredward, if you refuse to be my wedding sex, I'm just going to have to find someone else. What's wrong with Charlie? He's built like a Greek statue."

I saw the jealousy flare in Freddie's eyes as I took a step in Charlie's direction. He pulled me back.

"Sam, he'll break your heart," he tried.

I held his eyes and whispered, "He wouldn't be the first…"

I could tell he was immobilized by my statement, so I took another step away from him, but he caught me and pulled me back, begging, "What do you want from me?"

I put one hand against his chest as he stared down at me, before I answered, "A better offer."

He held my eyes for a moment before he slowly leaned down and caught my lips with his. It was the first time I'd kissed him since I was eighteen, and suddenly, I was back on the fire escape, saying goodbye. I was fifteen, sharing my first kiss with my future first love. I'd almost forgotten how amazing it was to feel those sparks, as they sprung to life throughout my body. The ones in my fingertips woke, and they cradled the back of his head, encouraging him as he refused to let go.

He pulled away for a moment, and smiled, "Better?"

I nodded furiously, before diving in for round two.

**Okay, maybe I rushed the kiss. MAYBE. But just think of it as one of those Christmas magic things. Just go with it. I hope you liked this one. Please review :]**


	6. Bubbles and Babysitting

**Okay, Midterms are over you guys. Hallelujah! Finally an update. Well, I'll get to it then. Enjoy! Oh, just a reminder, this story is T, so don't give me any 'Wow, that's dirty' about how I start this chapter. I'm pretty sure you're all mature enough to handle it. It's really not that bad. Starts in Sam's POV.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter Six: Bubbles and Babysitting**

"You know, when I said 'I'm getting up to take a shower,' it wasn't an open invitation," I said, as he moved my hair to kiss my neck, and, I'm ashamed to say this, I giggled.

He dropped my hair and opened the shower door a crack, "Fine, I'll get out."

I pulled him back in before too much steam could escape, and kissed him messily, "Not a chance."

There were a few more minutes of hands running over wet skin, before I could hear the irritating sound of my ringtone over the drone of the shower head.

"Crap, that's my phone," I said, trying to force myself past him, but he had put both hands on either side of the shower.

"Call them back," he whispered, and I was so tempted to listen to him, but I knew who it was, and I knew I should answer.

"It's probably Carly, and I really don't want to push her. We already snuck out of her party, and though I'm sure she assumed where we went, we REALLY pissed her off on Prom night."

He groaned before lowering one of his arms. I ran past him, pulling a towel to my chest, and darting over to the counter, where my phone was sitting on the charger.

I answered it, but shouted, "And make sure you wash your hair!" before walking into the bedroom.

"Well that sounds promising," I heard Carly say, and I could almost hear her smirk through the phone. "What if it had been your mother calling?"

"She'd give the same response. You forget, she had Mel and me when she was nineteen. She's wondering what the hell is taking me so long."

"Sam, did you seriously change your ringtone to 'Reunited' by Peaches & Herb?" Freddie interrupted, leaning out the bathroom door. I waved him off, but he finished with a loud, "CHEESY!" and I rolled my eyes.

"Sam, Sam!" I realized she was still talking. "Did you even hear me?"

"Uh, no, sorry, I got...distracted," I answered.

"I said, 'Does this mean you two are back together?'"

The question hung in the air, as I heard Freddie whistling 'Reunited' in the bathroom. But were we really reunited? I mean, we'd slept together, but you didn't have to be in a relationship to do that. No, a relationship wouldn't work like this.

"No," I answered, hoping it hadn't taken too long.

"So, you didn't sleep together last night?"

I turned away from the bathroom, embarassed, "Well, I didn't say THAT..."

"Sam..." she cautioned, but I cut her off.

"Look Carly, people have meaningless sex all the time," I said, hoping Freddie wouldn't hear me.

"Sure, _people _do, but _you _don't," she answered quietly. "Come on, how many men have you slept with?"

"Uh, three?"

"Doesn't that say something?" she said, and as usual, she was right.

"Look, Carls, I can't talk about this right now," I said, almost begging. "Why did you call?"

"Oh, right! I needed to ask you guys a favor..."

"If it involves helping you decide on the perfect wedding kiss, I am NOT game."

"Damn, I should have thought of that. No, look, Alice needs to help me with something, and her husband got called into work at the last minute. It's the nanny's day off and..."

"You want us to babysit?" I finished for her.

"Do you mind?"

"No, we love kids. Should we meet you at the house?" I said, excited at the prospect of spending some no-pressure time with Freddie.

"Uh, no. We're at Parker's apartment. I'll give you the address. You'll have to take a cab here, but after that you can borrow a car. I'll see you in, oh, half an hour?" She gave me the address, and I promised to get there as soon as...plausible.

I hung up and went to the bathroom, where Freddie was attempting to shave. I could tell he had been eavesdropping from the way his hand hovered over his face without actually removing shaving cream.

"Here, let me help you," I said, holding out my hand. He shook his head, telling me he had heard something he didn't like. Probably something along the lines of 'meaningless sex.'

"Please?" I added, in the most pitiful voice I could manage. He gave me a glimmer of a smile and handed me the razor.

I tucked the towel around my body and moved between him and the counter. The hunger came back into his eyes, but he had taken my comments to heart.

"A little help here?" I asked softly. He took me by the waist, and lifted me up on the counter. I caught his eyes wandering down my bare legs. I took one finger and lifted his chin until he was almost looking at the ceiling, but he still looked down his nose at my mostly bare back in the mirror.

I leaned back to turn on the faucet, before I proceeded to shave his neck, slowly and carefully. I balanced one hand against his chest, and every time one of my fingers moved, his breath hitched.

I was almost done when he inhaled sharply, and his hand went to his face. The daze I'd put him in was broken, and now he grabbed for a washcloth.

"Oh, shit, did I hurt you?" I said, louder than necessary.

He shook his head, "Just a nick, that's all."

I took the washcloth from him and wet it, before holding it to his face. When the bleeding stopped, I set it down, and kissed his cheek tenderly.

"I-I think you nicked my neck too," he said, pointing at the side of his neck. I smiled, and pressed my lips to the spot, before pulling back.

"About what I said earlier..." he caught my eyes, and I knew I was forgiven. Within two seconds, the towel I had been wearing was on the floor, and I was almost to the bed in Freddie's arms.

-

"Sorry we're late!" Sam called as we finally made our way into Parker's apartment. She dropped my hand as we crossed the threshold, and I shoved it into my pocket to keep it from feeling cold.

"Sam, all the years we've been friends, I _expected_ you to be late. What were you..." her words trailed off as she entered the room and saw the smirks on our faces. "Oh God, I don't want to know."

She walked off into another room, and we followed her, laughing at her discomfort. At the counter was a woman in her early thirties with long blonde hair. She gripped a coffee cup in one hand, and as she took a sip, she hid behind the cup as she smirked. It was this smirk that told me she was Parker's sister.

I looked over to a see a little girl coloring at the kitchen table. She had blonde curls and blue eyes, and looked eerily like Sam had at four according to the pictures I'd seen. She looked up at us as we entered, before going back to her chore.

Her little brother was in a bouncer hung from the kitchen doorway across from us. He was little more than a year old, but was already showing signs of the reddish-blond Emerson curls.

"Is Parker here?" I asked, suddenly feeling outnumbered. The only other guy in this room was drooling all over himself.

"No, he had to work today," Carly offered, before confirming. "But this is Alice, Parker's sister."

She nodded, flipping her hair effortlessly over her shoulder and flashing what looked like, literally, a million dollar smile, in our direction. She motioned to her children, "And this is Emily and Thomas."

Emily looked over at us curiously, but decided we weren't worth her time, and went back to coloring. Thomas continued to drool in his bouncer.

"They're adorable!" Sam said gleefully, and I thought she was being sarcastic, until I saw the way her cheeks lit up. I knew that every woman had maternal instincts, but I couldn't help but be shocked that Sam possessed them. She'd always been slightly different, but obviously, not that different.

"They really are sweet kids," Carly confirmed. "They'll be no trouble."

Alice went to another room and came back with what looked like every single baby outing appliance known to man. I could make out a stroller, diaper bag, and one of those pouch things you were supposed to wear like a backwards backpack. I scanned the pile, and thanked the baby gods that there was no kid leash. I didn't care how horribly behaved these children could get. There was no way I could put them on a leash. I could only be glad they weren't out when I was little.

"Now, we could be gone all night, and Parker is out of town on some last minute business, so I'm going to give you the keys, so you can put them to bed," Sam reached for the keys, but I laughed and interceded. She could manage to lose anything.

"And these are the keys to the Range Rover," Carly said. "Now, it's mine, so don't scratch it, okay? And that means Freddie's driving."

Sam glared at me as Carly tossed me the other set of keys. I could only hope she wouldn't tackle me as soon as the other women were gone.

"Uh, no allergies, I'll give you my cell number," Alice said, quickly exchanging numbers. "I think we're good. If Carly trusts you, I trust you."

She went over and kissed the kids goodbye, while Carly made sure we were okay taking over, as if she had a backup plan. Sam promised her we'd be fine, though I wasn't so sure. I still had bad memories from Baby Stephanie. I still couldn't believe that kids liked me.

As soon as they left, I could see trouble brewing in Sam's eyes. She could never sit still for long.

"So guys, you want to go to the zoo?" No consultation. No nothing. But when I saw Emily's eyes light up, even I couldn't say no.

But of course that meant I had to pack the car. We would always be in these roles, Sam and I. She would have the ideas, and I would bring them to fruition. But it was okay, because I would do anything for her.

Carly had gone through the trouble of installing the carseats in the car, but I didn't think I could work the straps. Sam amazed me though, and buckled both kids in, before putting a cartoon on the DVD players in the back of the seats. I loaded the stroller, diaper bag, and even the damn baby backpack into the trunk of the SUV, before we pulled away.

I hoped I remembered the way to the Woodland Park Zoo. I hadn't gone there often as a kid. My mother was a germaphobe, and she hated that place. But Sam and I had gone there once on a date, sometime that July. I wondered if that had anything to do with this outing.

Sam played with the radio the whole way there, mischievously changing presets and switching out CDs. She finally settled on what was obviously a Beatles CD, calling it, "the good stuff."

In the rear view mirror, I could see Tommy nodding off. It was strange to me how easily the nickname grew on me. Gone were the connotations of a classic rock album. His pink cheeks were flushed and his bright blue eyes were opening infrequently as he slowly dozed off. I realized I was getting distracted and tried to focus on the road, but I always kept the rear view in my peripheral vision.

I could hear Emily humming along to the CD in the back seat. I didn't remember being exposed to the Beatles at four, but maybe she was just repeating sounds. Better than that Baby Einstein crap my neighbors used on their kids.

We pulled into the zoo, and even on a weekday, were met with horrible parking. Sam looked at me, and I could sense I was going to be taking the diaper bag, which easily weighed thirty pounds.

She helped me unload the stroller. Once it was open, we called Emily out, and she informed us that her brother was asleep. Sure enough, when I circled to the seat behind mine, he was totally out. I groaned a little, but I knew I would hate myself if I woke him up. I went back to the trunk and took the baby carrier, strapping it across my chest, before carefully putting him in it.

He cuddled into my chest, and I felt like a total girl. I could feel his breathing, his heart beating, and I could feel it. I could feel the need. I wanted this.

I looked up at Sam, and I knew she could see right through me.

"Come on," she teased, easily lifting the diaper bag into the back of the stroller, before lifting Emily into the seat. I followed her as she pushed the stroller in the direction of the entrance.

At the entrance, I looked around to see that there were quite a few families here today. It was a work day, but there were a lot of nannies and mothers clutching the hands of small children.

Emily was leaning out of the stroller seat to try to see the animals, which weren't even in sight yet. I could see that Sam had one eye on her, so I paid attention to the line ahead. When we got to the front, I paid for our tickets.

As soon as we hit the inside of the gates, Emily wanted out of the stroller, and Sam helped her out. I tried to unfold the map as quickly as I could before she ran off, but both she and Sam were already twenty feet away, heading toward an enclosure.

"Sam, you guys missed one!" I called, as I went past an enclosure they'd missed.

"Those are flamingos," Sam called back.

"So, why aren't we stopping for the flamingos?" I asked, as I finally caught up to them.

Sam opened her mouth to answer, but Emily chirped, "Because they're pink!"

Sam started laughing and pointed to Emily, "I like this girl."

-

"Can we go see the penguins now?" Emily asked. By now, we had almost circled the park, and Emily had finally decided to revert to the stroller. Tommy was now awake against Freddie's chest, and every few minutes, I looked over to see Freddie making faces at him to make him laugh.

"The penguins?" I asked childishly. "Why the penguins?"

"They're my favorites!" she squealed, and I pointed the stroller in the direction of the penguins. Minus when I told her she couldn't crawl into the gorilla enclosure, I was giving her everything she wanted. It was becoming clear that this girl had never been to the zoo before. Her parents must have been too busy. I made a note that my kids would go to the zoo at least twice a year.

When we got to the penguin exhibit, Emily jumped up in her seat, and I lifted her out and pushed the stroller toward Freddie, who stood in the back. When we got to the glass, I set her down and knelt next to her as she pressed her face against it. One of the penguins came up close, and her face lit up. I couldn't help but smile as she prodded hopefully at the glass barrier.

She turned to me, "Can I get a penguin?"

"No, penguins have to live where it's cold. Plus, they eat lots of fish. It would make your bedroom smell yucky," I told her, but she still looked defeated as she nodded, so I added, "We could get you a stuffed one though, and he could sleep with you every night."

She smiled, and I took her hand again, as I led her back to where Freddie was standing with the stroller. I could tell he had been watching us by the way he was smiling.

"We're going to get Emily a penguin," I informed him, which was answered with a raised eyebrow.

"Sam…"

"A stuffed one! Freddie, do you really think I would…you know what, don't answer that," I said, before I grabbed the stroller with one hand while holding Emily's hand with the other. I could hear Freddie behind me, chuckling.

Outside, I bought the penguin doll, which was ultimately overpriced, but it made up for it when I saw Emily's face.

"What are you going to name him?" I asked her.

"Hmm…" she said thoughtfully. "I don't know. What would you name him?"

I looked up at Freddie, and he smirked, "Gibby."

"Yeah! I'll name you Gibby," she said to the doll, and I held back the urge to laugh.

I looked around, now that Emily's agenda was cleared, and saw the Zoomazium across the path. I knew Emily was tired of walking, and honestly, so was I. I looked at Freddie, and pointed my eyes toward the building.

We started walking toward it, and my phone went off. It was Carly. Freddie looked at me and nodded, shoving the stroller in my direction, before taking Emily's hand and heading into the building. I walked slowly behind them, and answered my phone.

"Chyello," I answered as I went into the building. I found a bench nearby and sat down, pulling the empty stroller next to me.

"Hey there, so how are things?" she asked.

"It's been fun. We're at the zoo," I answered, looking over to where Freddie was chasing after Emily as she darted around the playscape.

I stared at him as Emily squealed, and he picked her up. I nervously wondered where Tommy had gone, but he was crawling nearby. He looked over at me and I pointed my eyes in Tommy's direction, and he nodded and picked him up in the other arm.

I looked in the stroller to see that when I wasn't looking, he had taken off the baby sling thing he'd been wearing all day, though I could still see the telltale crease in his t-shirt.

"Sam…Sam! You're doing it again," I heard, and I realized I was still on the phone with Carly. "How is that going?" she repeated, probably for the fourth or fifth time.

"Sorry," I said, staring at my lap to avoid getting distracted. "I just wanted to check on the kids. Freddie's playing with them on the Zoomazium."

"Oh, so how's that going?" she said, again, still digging for more information.

"Fine Carly, you win. Freddie is being absolutely amazing. He's acting like such a dad," I said, as I choked down I smile. I knew that if I smiled, Carly would be able to hear it through the phone.

"Oh, is he?" she asked, and I could hear her smile.

My jaw dropped a little, "Oh, I see what you did there! This is just a big sopping trap to get Freddie and me thinking about wanting kids, hmm?"

"What?!" she answered in her lying voice. "A trap?!"

I stayed silent, until she added, "Okay fine, but it's working! You're enjoying yourselves, aren't you?"

I gave in, "Like you wouldn't believe. These kids are adorable! Especially Emily. She's like a mini-me."

"Mmhmm, I knew you would like each other. So, you're not mad at me?"

"Of all the plans you've put together thus far, this is actually one of the more enjoyable ones," I admitted.

"So you're really enjoying yourself?" she asked, still a little ashamed that she'd been caught.

"Yeah," I promised, as I saw Freddie across the room and caught his eyes. "I really am."

-

"I think they're finally asleep," I whispered, as I glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam turned around and nodded in confirmation. We'd been driving in circles for almost an hour to get them asleep, and now that they were, we could head back to the apartment.

It had been a long day, but I'd had the most fun I'd had in a long time. I could tell by the way Sam was glowing that she had too. We drove in silence, afraid to wake either of the sleeping children in the backseat.

When we got back to the parking garage, I took Emily out of her carseat, making sure to grab Gibby, and led Sam, who was carrying Tommy, to the nearby elevator. When we got to the apartment, Carly met us at the door, and I had the suspicion that she had been home a lot longer than she had led us to believe. We laid the kids on the couch, and made a quiet escape.

On the way back downstairs, where we would have to catch a taxi, I took Sam's hand. There was so much I wanted to say, but I knew that as soon as we got in the cab, Sam would clam up. She had always been paranoid about speaking about private matters in public places. I had to appease myself with quietly rubbing my thumb against hers in the backseat.

When we got back to the suite, I cautioned a simple, "That was fun."

She looked at me and smiled, knowing that I'd been holding it in since we left the zoo. Not that I was predictable or anything.

"Yeah, those kids are amazing," she admitted. "Especially Emily. She reminds me so much of myself at that age. Do you think Alice would let me adopt her?"

I knew she was kidding, but I noted, "I didn't know you wanted kids."

She stopped and chuckled at her own personal joke, "Neither did I for a while there. I mean, having kids pretty much ruined my mother's life. I always thought it was us, but as I started to get older, I realized that she just didn't do it the right way. She was nineteen, and she barely knew my father…but if I found somebody I was ready to spend the rest of my life with, who could be a great dad…yeah."

I didn't realize I was smiling until she looked up at me and blushed, "Okay, maybe that was a little much to lay on you. No pressure Freddo."

It hadn't even crossed my mind until she said that that I should've been filling the blanks with myself. No pressure, huh? After spending the day playing house with a woman I once thought I could marry, there was no way the situation could be 'no pressure.'

But now that she'd given me that information, I couldn't stay silent. It wasn't fair.

"That's the way I'd do it. I mean, it's unfair to the kids not to have that kind of loving relationship in place. I love my mother, but I would never do it the way she did."

Sam stared at me, waiting for me to go on, and I realized that I'd never told her how I was, for lack of a better word, conceived.

"I don't have a father. Well, I mean, obviously, I wasn't immaculately conceived, but I don't know his name. Just his number. My mom, obviously, never gets very close to anybody except me, so when she wanted a child, she researched for years to find the perfect…donor. I guess he was a doctor that looked like Paul Newman, according to her. I mean, I know I was born out of love, but…I'd rather do it the old fashioned way."

She nodded, "I never knew that. I mean, nothing about your mother has never REALLY surprised me, but…I don't know, I'm just glad you felt you could tell me."

I smiled, and admitted, "I've never told anyone before."

She smiled in understanding, and motioned to the sofa, I sat down, and she followed, sitting close by, and leaning into my shoulder. She took my hand and started tracing shapes with her fingertips.

"How did you get your name?" she asked, obviously staying on subject. With all the nicknames she'd come up with over the years, it sort of shocked me that this subject had just come up.

"Fredward?" she nodded against my chest. "My grandparent's names, Francine and Edward, my mom combined them into Fredward. I never met them. They died in a car accident when my mom was a teenager."

She was silent for a minute, "I'm sorry for making fun of it now. No wonder your mother hated me so much."

"My mother never hated you. She was too busy hating Carly and Spencer," I quipped, and she laughed sleepily. "No, I always enjoyed it, secretly. My favorite just might have been Fredducini."

She laughed, again, barely awake, "That was a good one wasn't it?"

I paused, and looked down to see that her eyes were closed, and she was smiling dreamily. She had stopped playing with my hand, and hers just rested on my knee.

"Sam, are you tired?" I asked sarcastically, which she couldn't even note in her state.

"No, it's only nine. Only little kids go to bed this early…" she said, already drowsing off.

"Go to sleep, Sam," I told her, but her soft breathing already told me she was asleep. On my shoulder.

I thought to move, but like I had been with the kids earlier, I didn't want to wake her. With my free hand, I reached for the blanket that the maid had folded nearby from my stay at Sofa City. I carefully covered the both of us, and kissed the top of her head, before lying my head on top of hers, and slowly drifting to sleep.

**Okay guys, there's one more. I will TRY my best to update soon. I am back to lacking afterschool involvement, so it may help my update schedule. I hope y'all still love it.**


	7. Jogging and Job Hunting

**February? Yikes! I would kill me too. I'll be honest, I don't think I realized the demand for this story, but people started to take it personally that I wasn't updating, so I felt like I had to. This was hands-down the hardest chapter to write, which is why it took so long. I apologize. Also, the lack of separations between POVs in this story is not my fault. It seems the site removed them. I apologize for that as well. Apologies all around.**

**iGo To A Wedding**

**Chapter Seven: Jogging and Job Hunting  
**

"Mmmm-Freddie…"

Sam's voice pulled me out of sleep, and it only took me a moment to realize she was still asleep against my chest. I could see the sunrise against the sheer curtains, and I knew that we'd slept all night like this.

It made me smile to know that she still talked in her sleep. Once, she'd told me that she loved me more that fried chicken. I felt honored, albeit a little confused.

Now that I was paying attention, I thought she had clammed up, until she groaned, "Mmmmarry me."

I tried not to jump backwards. If she woke up, I'd have to explain myself, and I really didn't want to. What was I supposed to say? _I'm sorry. My commitment issues made me want to jump out a window._

No, jumping out a window probably wouldn't be the best idea, but I needed air. Lots of it. Now.

I tried to slip out from under her without waking her, but I failed, and though she was only half-awake, I explained that I was going for a walk. She nodded and turned back over.

I covered her with a blanket as her head slipped to where I'd just been. I shook my head. She really was beautiful while she slept. I wished I could…but no. There was thinking to be done, and that girl kept me from thinking straight, no matter the situation.

I took the fastest shower of my life, and threw on clothes, barely pausing to make sure they were clean. As an afterthought, I grabbed my PearPod where I'd left it in my carry-on, and shoved it in my hoodie pocket, attaching the ear buds to my ears before quietly locking the door behind me.

I'd never been a jogger in my life, but right now I was running on the adrenaline of panic, and I just had to go. I started blasting Bon Jovi and I was in my element. The purpose of leaving was so I could think, but this lack of thinking was quite comforting.

I must have run for half an hour before I stopped, almost totally out of breath. I finally looked up to realize where I was. I was in front of my old building. From here I could see the fire escape where I had my first kiss. With Sam.

It always came back to Sam. I couldn't forget about her for more than half an hour, which was a bad sign, considering I was trying not to fall completely in love with her.

I knew what I needed. I needed advice. I needed brotherly advice.

I looked up at the building, and I knew what I had to do.

* * *

After he left, I got up. He must've thought I was going back to sleep, but how could I when I knew what was going on. I knew because I felt the same way.

It was inescapable, this feeling of needing him. It felt like we were a couple, but we couldn't be. The whole reason we'd broken up in the first place was so we would get in the way of each other's dreams. But my dreams were changing, as my restless night had proved.

Whether it was a bad idea or not, I knew that if he asked me to, I would sacrifice everything to be with him, here, Boston, Bombay…I wasn't so sure I could let myself let him walk away again.

My heart was literally beginning to hurt from the stress of thinking like this, and I knew I had to distract myself. After taking a shower and getting dressed, I called Carly and asked her if she needed any help. I must have sounded desperate, because she promised to meet me for lunch, so we could go afterward to get my dress.

Until then, I would have to occupy myself. I flipped through the channels, until I found _St. Elmo's Fire_. In my head, I could hear Freddie ranting about how much of a travesty it was that John Hughes hadn't directed this. I'd usually had to shut him up with a quick make out session so I could watch the rest of the movie.

I'd always thought that Freddie was like Andrew McCarthy's character, Kevin. He was sensitive to the point of exhaustion, but when it came down to it, I knew he loved my with everything he had. And that's what scared me.

But he was scared too. He must have been, the way he jetted out of here this morning. I wondered what I had done that had pushed him. Freddie was never one to break easily. I must have done…or said…

Insert various expletives here. I couldn't believe I'd been talking in my sleep again. And as usual, I had no idea what I'd said. I tried to remember what I had dreamed last night, and what I could have said in relation to it.

Taffeta. I saw white taffeta, roses, lace…a wedding? I could only remember bits and pieces. Was it Carly's wedding? No, the groom wasn't quite tall enough to be Parker. It must have been…Freddie.

Putting this much together, I realized that I must've been saying something about marriage in my sleep, and Freddie's commitment issues had blown up.

Freddie had turned out well, considering the circumstances he'd grown up in, but there were still residual effects of his mother's loneliness embedded in him. He wanted this. He wanted all of it. He just couldn't bring himself to let it happen.

Which was bad; very, very bad. Because for the first time in a long time, I wanted something so badly it hurt. And I was determined to have it. But I couldn't force him to love me if he couldn't.

But it was Freddie. Somehow, he always did the right thing.

* * *

"Well, do the right thing."

I had high expectations for my visit with Spencer. In his most lucid moments, he could exhibit the wisdom of a Greek philosopher. As for the other 99.9% of the time, he could barely tear his eyes away from the television.

I stepped in front of the television and tried to avoid yelling, "That's what I'm saying! I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore! Have you listened to a single word I've said?"

He looked up at me, flinching. I guess I had been screaming, "You need a shrink."

"I have one," I admitted. "But he's in Boston."

He shrugged and got off the couch, most likely realizing that I wasn't leaving until he helped. His wife was gone, and as such, he didn't want to waste a moment of laziness.

"Listen Freddie, I've always pushed Seddie—"

"You've pushed what?"

"It's what Carly calls you guys. Mission Seddie," he said in his movie trailer voice. He smirked and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, offering me one, but I turned him down. That was all I needed at the moment.

I shook my head to shake off Carly's idea of a good couple name, and prodded Spencer to continue.

"Anyway," he responded, clearing his throat, "The heart of the matter is this. You're holding back. If you want to love her, love her. If you want to leave…do it soon."

I avoided his eyes, "I don't want to leave…but what if I have to."

"You don't have to do anything Freddie," he said, quietly, but urgently.

"What about my job? My home? My friends? I'd have to start over."

"And what's so wrong with that? A fresh start might just be what you need," he said, almost yelling now. I still wasn't convinced, and my eyes must have shown it. He rolled his, "Okay, try this. Close your eyes."

I did so, and he prompted me, "Now think about what life means to you. What's the first thing you picture? Is it your job? Your home?"

I opened my eyes and stared at him. He was smirking knowingly.

Because he knew that life meant love.

And love meant Sam.

* * *

"Sam, are you sure you're okay?" Carly asked for the umpteenth time. When I saw my own figure reflected in the salon mirror, I realized that I had been spacing out again.

"Yeah, it's fine," I lied, busying myself with the straps on my dress.

"Something happened last night with Freddie," she gathered, glaring into my reflection.

"Nothing happened last night," I said, which was true. Last night was great. It was the morning that had sucked. "We just talked for a while."

"Well, what did he say?" she tried, digging for information.

"HE didn't say anything," I mumbled, but she caught it.

She thought for a second, and then she smiled knowingly.

"So you talked, and talked, then fell asleep…then talked…"

She took my silence as an affirmation and added, "What exactly did you say?"

I played with the tendrils of my hair, trying to get it to stay in front of my shoulders, but it was barely long enough to do so, and kept falling flat. When this failed, I started to examine the split ends of my blonde curls.

She continued staring at me, and I knew that I wasn't going anywhere until I told her something. Literally. She was my ride.

"Well, I was asleep, so I don't know my exact wording but…"

"But…" Carly continued, never patient enough for a painful confession.

"Well, in my unconscious state, I seemed to have admitted something about wanting to marry him…" I hesitated before finishing coldly "…and he ran out of the room like the couch was on fire."

I could tell that Carly was having a hard time coming up with an answer that would cheer me up rather than make it worse, but the condition of my dress was in jeopardy, and she would have lied shamelessly to keep her wedding as tear-stain-free as possible.

"Look, Freddie has a hard time committing to anything. Do you remember how many hours you spent convincing him that he had to go to Boston? And do you remember his main reason?"

I nodded, but she voiced the answer anyway, "Because once he had you, he didn't want to give you up. And you had to tell him that you didn't want to be with someone without convictions. You convinced him that Boston was where he was supposed to be, because he wouldn't have listened to anyone else."

"So you're telling me that I'm the means of my own destruction?" I said, finally giving up on Carly dropping the subject, and stumbled onto the stiffly padded sofa behind me.

"No," she affirmed. "That would be cruel, and horribly untrue. I'm simply saying that Freddie needs hours of convincing just to pick creamy or crunchy peanut butter. It's going to take him a little while to come around to a decision this big. But he loves you. Don't ever doubt that."

"I don't," I admitted, but made sure I added, "But I'm not sure that's enough."

* * *

"Listen Parker, I need your help," I practiced, earning another glare from the receptionist. It had taken long enough to go back to the hotel and press a pair of dress pants and a clean shirt, shower, shave, and get here. After finding my way to Parker's office, I had no way to get in, because I didn't have an appointment, and I had failed to realize just how important he was.

But after twenty minutes of waiting, I finally realized he wasn't even in his office. He was coming from the elevator, a paper fast food cup in his hand. He was chatting with a coworker, but nodded at me as he came down the hallway. I took this time to glare at the receptionist, who had fooled me into believing he'd been here all along. She simply glared back.

Parker took a few steps into his office, but I waited for him to wave me in, and when he did, I smirked menacingly at the receptionist. She only glared harder.

Once I had been admitted, I realized that I had never bothered to figure out what to say when I got here. Parker seemed to notice this, and busied himself with organizing and reorganizing files. He told me I was invited to sit, but I shook my head shortly in refusal.

When I finally found words, I could only hope my nerves would be taken into account.

"Listen Parker, I'm not usual one to ask for favors, especially since you barely even know me, but you have all these connections and…" I cleared my throat, finally deciding my words. "I'm moving back to Seattle. And I need a job."

He stared at me, his eyes wide, as if he was shocked, but I don't think he was entirely surprised. After all, he and Carly had been hoping for this all along.

"Are you sure?" he asked, more for me than him.

I smiled and shook my head, "Not at all. But if there's anything I've learned from Sam, it's that spontaneity sometimes works out for the best."

"Have you talked to her about this?" he asked, pulling his chair closer to his desk, and I suddenly felt like a child called into the Principal's office.

"Not in so many words," I admitted, but I wasn't swayed. "But I could see it in her eyes. In her smile. She's just waiting for me to make a move."

"Well this is quite the move," he admitted, chuckling to himself. Then he looked down at his desk knowingly. "I could pretend I was surprised, but I'm not. Ever since I met you, I've been digging for leads."

"Leads?" I inquired.

He handed me a manila folder, "Victory Studios. They're a new company out of Seattle, mostly TV commercials, small scale stuff, but they want to go bigger. I gave them a call, and gave them the new Pinkbunny advertising campaign, with one condition."

_But what does this mean for me? _I was tempted to ask, but instead asked, "What's the condition?"

He looked at me as if it should be obvious, "That you be put at the head of the production team for our campaign. Hopefully, it'll lead you to bigger things in the near future. You start in a month. That should be enough time to get things arranged in Boston. And if need be, there's also a studio in Los Angeles," he added carefully.

I couldn't even find the words to thank him, so I simply muttered, "Thank you," and stuck my hand out. He shook it with a broad smile.

"My pleasure. And if you can't find a decent apartment, just let me know. I know how to pull strings," he added, miming a puppeteer. I suddenly realized I was glad to be moving back to Seattle, if for no other reason than the fact I was finally experiencing the concept of male bonding.

The receptionist interrupted and told Parker he had a call, so hid bid me goodbye and picked up the handset, before recalling me and adding, "You know you're invited to my Stag right? It's tomorrow night. You in?"

I make the split-second decision to say yes. If I was already planning to spend the rest of my life with Sam, one night with the guys wouldn't kill me. I nodded to him and waved on my way out the door.

I only made it a few feet before I turned around and glared at the receptionist, who was flushed from either anger or embarrassment. I pasted a fake smile on my face, stated, "Thank you for all of your help," and marched out.

* * *

By now, lunch had turned into dinner, and Carly and I were sitting on the patio of a beautiful café, sipping expresso and eating the tiniest pastries one could imagine. I could never imagine living on this diet-for-midgets Carly was on, but I planned on picking up a pizza on my way back to the hotel anyway, and the patio itself was beautiful. I made note of the tiny lights for my future wedding…to whomever it may be.

When I looked up from the table, I could tell that Carly had been smirking again, as well as she thought she was hiding it. Every since she had called to check in with Parker, she had been smirking on and off, and I knew there was something up.

"Carly Shay, you're no-secrets rule isn't exclusive to Freddie and I. You've been grinning like a fox for the last hour, and I insist you tell me what's going on."

She could see that she was caught, and it seemed that she decided to let me in on the secret. She took one more sip of expresso before asking, "So, in all of that talking last night, did either of you happen to mention your future together?"

I thought back and decided that there was no way Carly could know we had talked about our non-existent future children, and shook my head.

"So Sunday, Freddie's going back to Boston?" she tried. I think she had convinced herself that she wouldn't be tattling if I could figure it out on my own. This had always been her tactic when it came to gossip.

"As far as I know," I hazarded. Her grin went to a full out smile in mere seconds.

"So you guys haven't talked about the possibility of moving back to Seattle?" she asked with enough eyebrow-shrugging to start a seizure.

I thought for a moment, before finally understanding what she was hinting at.

"Did he tell you something?" I said, maybe a bit too harshly. After everything Freddie and I had gone through, I still couldn't help but have a tinge of jealousy when I thought of him confiding in Carly.

"No," she admitted, taking a mental step backwards, sensing my discomfort, "But he talked to Parker today. He asked him if there was a way he could help him find a job, if he were to, say, move back to Seattle."

"No, he never said anything," I said. I was overcome with indescribable emotions. So many thoughts were running through my head, I couldn't voice a single one. "But maybe he's just tired of Boston?" I tried, half-heartedly.

As usual, Carly rolled her eyes, "The company Parker found him has two branches. One is in Seattle, the other is in Los Angeles."

I cleared my throat, mostly because I couldn't clear my head. Would he really move back to Seattle for me? And if so, why hadn't he talked to me about it? This was a lot to think on, and I wasn't sure I could handle it in a public place. It must have been evident on my face.

"We could go back to my place if you want?" Carly tried quietly. She held out her hand across the table and I gripped it firmly. "I wouldn't have told you if I thought you were going to react this way. I thought it was good news."

I tried to smile for her sake, "It is. I just, I need to think…"

She nodded, "So do want to come back to my place? Parker's working late tonight."

I shook my head, "Nah. We're only a few blocks from the hotel. I think I'll walk."

She nodded, "Just make sure you get some rest. And even if you're not in the mood, you should come to my Bachelorette Party tomorrow. It'll be fun. And if worst comes to worst, the drinks are on me, right?"

I chuckled as best as I could, but worst comes to worst might be just where I end up.

* * *

I looked up from the TV in the bedroom when I heard the door open. I hadn't heard from Sam since this morning, and I was slightly worried that she wouldn't come back. Not that she would be kidnapped, raped, or murdered, but that of her own free will, she wasn't coming back.

Once I got back to the suite, I had had some serious time to think, and I realized that what I had done this morning was stupid, and that I'd probably hurt her rushing out like that. But at the time I wasn't thinking. I was feeling. Which was new for me.

She came into the bedroom, and I could tell she'd been crying. I went to get out from under the covers, but she shook her head, and handed me a bag of Chinese takeout. I started to take out containers, while she went over to the sink and started to take her clothes off. It wasn't meant to be sexy or sensuous. She was extremely vulnerable, more vulnerable than I had ever seen her, and it scared me.

She put on the shirt I had neatly pressed earlier, which I had thrown over an armchair and got in the bed with me. I handed her a fork and a container, and she took it, while staring at me.

When she broke eye contact, she mumbled, "So what's on?"

I was taken aback, but I stuttered out, "St. Elmo's Fire."

I saw a glimmer of a smile as she finally started to eat, and I could tell she was starting to go back to normal, but there was still a shadow of something I couldn't name, and I was still pretty scared.

"I'm sorry," I tried, trying to catch her eyes.

She looked up from the movie and answered quietly, as if still slightly possessed by the being that had walked in a few minutes ago, "What for?"

"I'm not positive," I admitted, searching her eyes for a specific answer, but finding none. "But whatever I did to make you cry, I'm sorry. If it was breathing, let me know. I'm smart, I can figure out a way not to breathe if you want."

She started to smile a little, and stabbed lazily at her fried rice.

"If it was talking, I can stop," I said, and paused for a few moments, before adding, "But could you let me know, because if that's not it, I would love to be able to apologize some more."

The desired effect was to make her happy, but instead, I guess I was being…charming? I didn't get it. What I did get was her lips on mine, and her hands holding my face as if she was afraid it would run away. As I kissed her back, I realized my lap was now covered with steaming fried rice, and I really didn't give a damn.

But after the way I saw her a few minutes ago, I really didn't want to get physical tonight. After all, _St. Elmo's_ was on. She was probably fantasizing about Andrew McCarthy anyway. I pulled back and she seemed to understand.

She helped me shake the fried rice off the comforter before pulling it up around us and cuddling up to my chest.

When we had finally settled in, I heard her whisper, "Thank you."

I hesitated, before asking, "What for?"

She just smiled at the TV, and I decided that I would take that as my answer.

* * *

**Well guys, I hope that wasn't so bad. Actually, I think I'll be ahead if any of you even read this story. And a special thank you to those of you who threatened me in the past weeks…okay, months. Even though it took so long for me to actually update [pulls out guitar] you were always on my mind!**

**Please review :]**


	8. Strippers and Smirnoff

**Okay, so I had this chapter half written, started college, and got busy. So now, after midterms of course, I am picking it up again, starting fresh, and giving you poor suckers an update. I was also inspired the fact that CARLY SHAY WILL NOT SWAY ME. SEDDIE, FTW. Enjoy.**

**Chapter Eight: Strippers and Smirnoff**

When I first felt her feet under the covers, I jumped backwards. They were ice cold, and her body was so small, I'd almost forgotten she was there in the first place. When I did realize what they were, I still wasn't sure quite how to handle the situation.

I'll be honest. Even in the depths of my bachelorhood, I wasn't exactly used to the idea of actually sleeping with a woman. I was no virgin, but I didn't quite have as much experience…under the belt…as most guys my age had had. And even when I did…you know, more than half the time I was drunk, and left as soon as the deed was done.

So when Sam's tiny feet (they'd seemed a lot bigger when they'd been landing in my shin), started wriggling around on my side of the bed, I didn't know what to do. Instinct told me to avoid them altogether, but that felt heartless. So I did what any upstanding male would do. I maneuvered myself so that her feet were squarely between my calves. Even if it felt like I was holding two icicles between my legs, she had stopped wriggling, and at least I knew that she was comfortable.

I also took this opportunity to do something some people would find perverted, but I found comforting. In her sleep, my shirt had ridden up, and I slipped my hand along her warm, flat stomach. I could feel it rise and fall with every breath, and I was comforted, just to know she was still breathing. Just to know she was alive, and that she was still here with me.

She was still here when I woke in the morning, and she was still out like a light. I'd always been somewhat of an early riser, but I still thought she looked exhausted from last night. Though I'd apologized, I still didn't actually know what I'd done wrong. So I did the only rational thing I could think of. I called Carly.

She answered on what I could assume was the last ring, and loudly at that. I pulled my sweatshirt closer around me as I stepped out on the balcony as not to wake up Sam.

"Carly?" I said, hearing mumbling on the other side of the phone.

"Hmm…what?" she said, and I could tell she was only half awake. I checked my phone to see that it was only eight in the morning. I had woken her up.

"What did you tell Sam that made her mad at me?" I said, cutting to the point. Carly had somewhat of a reputation of poking Sam's figurative bear when it came to me.

"What's that one song? I think I'll go to Boston…something, something, something…get outta California, I'm tired of the feathers!" and then she continued mumbling. I was still trying to figure out whether this was relevant, or just Carly being delusional.

"Boston? What about Boston?" I said, and I heard snoring. "Carly!"

"Billy Joel. She loves Billy Joel," she mumbled sleepily. "Good idea, McNubblet."

I tried my best not to laugh. It was like speaking to a three-year-old. "What about Billy Joel?"

"I'm Movin' Outttttt!" she said in a sing-song voice. Suddenly, I understood everything, and I was no longer feeling bad about waking Carly up.

"CARLY!" I screamed into the phone, assured to wake her up this time. "What did you do?"

"Don't yell at me! She had a right to know!" she said, grumbling, but awake.

"Yes, and I had the right to tell her!" I responded angrily. "I was going to surprise her last night, but I didn't get a chance because she came in crying and quiet. I didn't know what was wrong, but now I do. Carly, if you're trying to get us together, you may want to stop sabotaging any trust she has me."

Amazingly, I had stunned her into silence. After a long hesitation she said, "I'm sorry. You're right. I have this uncanny ability to screw up your perfect moments, don't I?"

I groaned, but I couldn't be angry anymore. I promised her she was forgiven, and told her that we'd see her later for the parties.

Next, I had to find a way to tell Sam, as soon as she woke up, about my move back to Seattle, as if it had been my plan all along. My cheesy moves last night had worked to some level, and I decided to go as cheesy as possible.

When I returned twenty minutes later, she still hadn't stirred. It only took a few seconds of waving the drink carrier over her to fix that. She peered at me with one open eye.

"Coffee?" she said, still partly inebriated with sleep.

"Seattle's Best," I said, smirking. "Like you…"

She stared at me for a second before rolling her eyes, "So this is how you're telling me?"

I could've lied and said I didn't know what she was talking about, but I was a horrible liar. Instead, I nodded.

"You're a damn fool," she said, but smirked, shoving the hair out of her face. "But you're cute."

"So, are you mad?" I asked, though her smirk could've answered for me.

She held out for a second, contemplating, before answering, "No…how could I be angry after a whole night fantasizing about Andrew McCarthy?"

"You do know he was drunk the whole time he filmed that movie, right? And he looks like the crypt keeper now," I said, trying to help my pride a little bit.

"…you look like the crypt keeper now…" she half-assed. "Okay, fine." She smirked, "Now come to mama…"

I only got one knee onto the bed before she threw me off, and I got real confused, real quick.

"I was talking to the coffee you horny nub," she said, reaching out for the coffee, which I begrudgingly gave her.

I must have looked really miffed, because she glanced over the lid of the coffee, "Don't get too whipped up Freddear. I need energy for what I'm about to do."

I wasn't sure what she meant, until she gave me a look that blew through to my knees. I took a sip of my own coffee, in preparation for what was about to come.

* * *

It had only taken me a few hours to realize that Carly had turned into another person while we had been apart. For all I knew, she'd always been like this, I'd just never noticed.

What I found out, was that Carly was the equivalent of Lacey Chabert in Mean Girls. Not a horrible person…just…well, you saw the movie. I could hear Scar seething in my head, "I am surrounded by idiots."

But maybe I just wasn't in the right mood for a girl's night. There were much better things…to be doing. I smirked at my own dirty thoughts, before asking the bartender to bring me another drink. Carly had joked about providing booze earlier, but I was about to blow the entire Emerson fortune on vodka.

One of the less inebriated socialites came over to me, and I could see she was sort of afraid to approach. I'll be honest. At this point I wouldn't be able to stand without losing my balance, let alone pull out my claws.

"Are you Sam?" the girl said sheepishly. From her stature, I could only guess she was a supermodel. Or an actress. Or a stripper. But probably not that last one.

I nodded, and she stretched out a thin hand, which I was shocked to find very strong and persuasive, "I'm Violet Whitney. I'll be standing two behind you in the wedding party. I think Carly may have asked me, just because of my name."

She smiled a warm smile, which sobered me up a little bit, "You're Violet Whitney? THE Violet Whitney?"

She blushed a little, "Most of the time, the only people who have heard of me are old men…and their clients."

I'd heard a lot about Violet Whitney. She headed up a non-profit that provided all female lawyers to prosecute sex offenders and abusive husbands. There was one thing the organization provided best of all, and those were connection. Most of the women in her organization were very high-profile, and belonged to nationally known firms.

"No, dude! You're seriously my hero. Female lawyers everywhere look up to you! I just didn't realize you're so…young, and pretty!"

She flipped back her strawberry-blonde hair, and couldn't help but show a little well-deserved pride, before giving me another warm smile, "So, you're a lawyer?"

"Yes. A very underappreciated, overworked lawyer," I confirmed, about ready to list my resume.

"I thought so. I heard about your case last year in San Francisco. Daniel Evans got put away for twenty years for what he did to his wife. And as part of the settlement, she got everything he owned. Very nice."

"My boss got all the credit for that, how did you…?"

"I saw the pictures. Your boss refused to look at Rebecca Evans, meanwhile, you held her hand through the whole trial. And a little birdie told me you were feeding him questions for the witnesses. You won that case."

I smiled a little, accepting the praise, "Well, it was very rewarding to see the fear melt away on her face, knowing she could get her kids back now that her husband wasn't in the picture. My mom…she was never that strong. She was too needy. If one of her boyfriends beat her, she just hoped he would "make up" for it later. I couldn't help her, because she didn't want to be helped. So I decided to help those who wanted out. That's why I joined my firm, until I realized that they only took cases that were marketable."

"Don't they all," she muttered, ordering herself a drink. "You seem very passionate. I wonder if you wouldn't want to join my organization. Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that you live in Los Angeles…"

"Actually, I'm moving back to Seattle for…personal reasons. And it would be…beyond awesome, to be part of your organization."

"I can also help you get a job to offset all the pro-bono work. You'd be an awesome addition to the team. I'll give Carly my card to give to you later."

"That would be great, thank you!" I said, shaking her hand again, before she went off to mingle with someone else.

I ordered another drink, thinking about all the opportunities that were opening up to me now. It was only then that it occurred to me.

I am moving back to Seattle.

* * *

There was something my mother had told me when I was a teenager that had always stuck with me. That girl, swinging naked from a pole, was somebody's daughter. She had conditioned me so well that I suddenly saw every man over forty in the club as a guy about to figure out how his daughter paid for that new iPod of hers.

This little tick made the bachelor party much less enjoyable, and I spend the night pumping ice water, pretending it was vodka. I was a recovering near-alcoholic, and I was starting to question whether this night was going to end well. If it ended badly, I'd be back at zero with a nasty hangover.

I didn't want to ruin the other guy's fun though, and they were having a lot of fun. Heavily inebriated fun, but fun nonetheless. I didn't think anyone would notice if I disappeared for a few minutes, and I headed for the door, yearning for fresh air as I strode through the smoky atmosphere of the club.

When I got outside, I realized that I wasn't alone. Near me, there was a heavily inebriated man leaning against the wall for support. For a moment, I thought he was smoking, but the cigarette he held wasn't lit, and I doubted it would be, simply because he was too drunk to realize it wasn't. When I got close enough, I recognized the man as Parker's brother, Charlie.

Of all the people I expected to leave the strip club, Charlie was not one of them. As far as I'd been told, he was a wild child. Well, wild…adult. A veritable man child.

He recognized me, and a hazy smile hovered on his face, "Hey there Freddo."

I nodded, hoping this was all the conversation he had, but I was wrong. I was still slightly annoyed at his flirting the other night, and as if he could read my mind, it was the first subject he settled on.

"So Freddie, how's Sam doing?" he said as he put the cigarette in his mouth, puffing it as if it were lit.

"Good," I said, trying to keep my answers as short as possible. I wasn't sure why, but I couldn't avoid feeling animosity toward this guy.

"We were talking a couple nights ago. She's real sweet," he said, slurring his words a little. "We were talking about you actually. She said you had 'commitment issues'."

I was going to bring up that it was none of his business, but he continued, "So what are your issues?"

I tried to avoid the question, "Why are you even out here?"

He chuckled, "Let's just say…this isn't my type of club."

His eyes flickered with something I couldn't place, and I cleared my throat, "What, are the girls not pretty enough?"

"Oh they're pretty. They're just lacking a little…something," he said, smirking.

Before I could understand what he meant, he did something totally unexpected. He…kissed me.

For all the jabs Sam marauded me with in high school, I am not, was not, and will never be gay. And if I thought that my first kiss with Sam was awkward, this was a whole new level. Aside from the evident Y-chromosome he possessed, his breath was tainted with alcohol and the faintest trace of nicotine, and it was disgusting. But I was too stunned to do anything for a moment. Then I pushed him a little, just enough to throw him off balance and off my lips.

I stuttered out as best I could, "Sam and I are moving in together!"

He looked a little disappointed, but still smirked. He wasn't even going to remember all of this in the morning. His still swollen lips were curled into a garish version of pride, and it disgusted me to no end.

"Well, that figures…" he said, patting me on the shoulder before I shrugged him off. "It was worth a shot."

"If I ever, you know, cross over to the fabulous side…you'll be the first I call…" I said, not sure of what to say here. It would have gotten even more awkward if my phone hadn't gone off to distract me.

"Hello? Is this Freddie Benson?" The call was from Sam, but that wasn't Sam's voice.

"Uh, yes? Who is this?" I asked. Charlie nodded as he went back into the club, dropping a wasted cigarette on the ground.

"This is Violet Whitney. I'm a friend of Sam's. We're back at Carly's apartment for some…entertainment, but Sam had a little too much to drink. She's passed out on Carly's bed. I was wondering if you'd come and get her."

I told her that I'd head over as fast as I could, and I went back in the club to let Parker know I was leaving. When I did, he gave me the keys to his car. He'd been drinking, so he wasn't going to use it anyway. I promised to take care of it, but fully intended on driving it fast and furious. Parker drove a Jaguar, and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

As I drove over to Carly's, slightly faster than usual, I knew the condition I was going to find Sam in. A couple of the parties we had gone to senior year of high school she had gotten so plastered that I'd had to carry her home, muttering in her sleep about bacon and the like. The girl simply didn't know when to stop. But I couldn't judge. I'd only recently discovered that limit myself.

I remembered a few nights, not as long ago as I'd like to pretend, where I woke up in a strange place with a strange woman, the aftertaste of alcohol on my tongue, and a headache the size of Rhode Island. That was the reason I'd stopped drinking altogether. It simply wasn't worth it anymore.

Thankfully, my biggest mistake of this particular night was knocking on the door of a bachelorette party when a male stripper was expected, and I made it to Carly's room with only parts of my shirt intact, and my hair an utter mess. Still it was good for my self-esteem that that many women wanted to see me with my clothes off. But I can gladly admit that there was only one I wanted to actually take my clothes off, the problem being that she was almost comatose thanks to what I can only assume was enough alcohol to take down a horse.

When I found her on the bed, on top of expensive designer coats and handbags, I chuckled a little at her expense. Her long blonde hair covered her face, and she was drooling a little out of the side of her open mouth. I did what I could, brushing the hair out of her face and wiping the drool off with my thumb. I reached down and grabbed what I hoped were her shoes, and looked at the pile of coats, recognizing hers and putting it over her shoulders before picking her up in my arms, challenging myself not to drop her or hit her head on anything.

The women parted for me to exit, all looking at me like I was Noah from The Notebook (…I don't want to talk about it) and I was sure they'd have something to say once I'd left. But I had no time to eavesdrop. I had to get Sam home.

Thankfully, the valet at the hotel showed me a service entrance, and I took the lurching service elevator all the way up to our floor. Though I could barely keep my footing, Sam never stirred, and I was glad that my uptight mother had taught me something about nursing. I didn't think Sam had crossed the threshold of alcohol poisoning, but she had definitely danced on the precipice.

Somehow I managed to unlock the door and get her inside, where I dropped her shoes at the door and stumbled into the bedroom. She wasn't very heavy, but I couldn't pretend that I'd been working out very much lately. I dropped her as carefully as I could on the bed, to which she groaned, before rolling over to avoid the light I was turning on.

I thought about changing out of my clothes, but I was tired. It had been a very eventful night. I was in the process of planning things for tomorrow, but I wanted to sleep on it, and I knew from experience that I usually thought better in the mornings anyway. And it wasn't like I wouldn't have time. Sam would be unconscious long past sunrise, and I would have that time to pack and plan for tomorrow.

Until then, I was content with turning off the light and closing the curtains to dim the bright city lights, and curling up next to her on top of the covers. Before I could even think of something to distract myself, exhaustion sent me into welcome oblivion.

* * *

**So guys, that was it for this one. There was a vital plot development that I owe to Coyote Laughs. Thanks for that little…twist. I also want to mention that I am going to be using McNubblet again. I am very proud of that one. Like, I'm gonna figure out a way to use that in conversation. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try to update soon.**


	9. Love and Landmarks

**Right, so, long time no see. I'm going to stop trying to explain the spaces between these things, but know that my first year of college is over, and that it can only get better from here. You should also know that there are (including this one) three more chapters to this story. Anyway, enjoy that. And if it helps, for this chapter, listen to the song "Marry You" by Bruno Mars ;D**

**Chapter Nine: Love and Landmarks**

I woke to the beautiful morning sunlight, and immediately I groaned. This was officially the hangover of the century. My own heartbeat throbbed like a Keith Moon solo in my head, and immediately I regretted every moment of last night.

I was aware that I'd made it back to the hotel, but how was a mystery. It seemed unlikely that I'd passed out somewhere reasonable. It was also fairly unlikely that Carly would have taken time out of the party to drop me off. It seemed much more likely that someone else had come and got me.

I opened one eye and saw the half-naked form of my savior, standing in the sunlight of the window. With all my heart, I wanted to stare at his shapely ass, but the drinks I'd had last night disagreed with me. I shut my eyes and covered my face with a pillow.

Freddie chuckled when he noticed my movement, and he uncovered my face to hand me the coffee he'd been drinking, kissing me on the forehead, before walking around the bed to the end table and rummaging through a plastic bag. He came back with an aspirin before walking back over to the curtains and closing them.

He went out to the other room and came back with two more mugs of coffee, and I could see the steam floating up from the surface. The first mug was now empty, and he replaced it with a fresh one.

He smirked as he took a drink from his, "So, you're almost thirty and you still haven't learned to drink like a rational person."

I groaned and tried to hit him with a pillow, but I missed miserably, which made him smirk harder, "Fine. What happened?"

"You were making friendly with some coats until one of Carly's friends called me. You saved me actually, but I'll…explain that one later," He looked odd, and I made a note to ask him about it later.

"I don't remember any of this," I admitted. "The last thing I remember was climbing into the limo. Past that it's…blurry."

"Well for starters, Carly's friends mistook me for the entertainment and basically ripped my shirt off. Remind me, she owes me a new shirt."

I laughed, so hard that it hurt my head, and I stopped, "Oh come on. Who would want to see what you're packing?"

"You always seem to like it," he said, this time hiding his grin with the mug.

I had absolutely no comeback, and I decided that having a hangover sucked ass. I groaned and reached for my head, hoping that the gesture would stop his mocking, but he just shook his head and went out to the other room. I heard the TV go on, and I decided that what I needed was an uninterrupted hot shower.

When I came out, having spent all the hot water in the hotel, I felt much better. I felt even better when I found a blueberry muffin the size of my head sitting on the bathroom counter, along with another cup of hot coffee.

I carried them out to the other room, where Freddie was watching the highlights of last night's hockey game. I remembered that he'd spent most of the night at a strip club, and had probably missed the game.

"So how was your night?" I asked, sounding angrier than it had sounded in my head. I sat down next to him on the couch and offered him a piece of the muffin. He popped it in his mouth, and turned the volume down on the TV.

"What? Before or after you puked on my shoes?" he said, smirking.

Shit. "Did I really puke on your shoes?"

He paused for a moment before shaking his head, "No. But you did drool a little bit."

"Great," I said, sure that I'd done worse before he'd shown up. "Well aside from that, how was your night? Did you tip, what's her name, Zippa?

"Zippa?" he asked, confused.

"The strippa," I said, secretly smiling to myself. He smiled outwardly. I'm a genius.

"She's doing well. Putting herself through college and everything," he said, and I could tell he was screwing with me.

"Did she hit on you? Because I know how to make her death look like an accident," I said, playing along.

He kissed my cheek, "I got hit on last night, but not by her…"

"Who was it? One of the other bridesmaids?"

He looked very embarrassed all of a sudden, "I don't want to talk about it."

This must have been what he was referring to earlier. Now I had to know.

"You started this conversation, now spill. I mean, I got so plastered last night that I was hanging out in Coat Land. How much worse could it possibly get?"

He stood his ground, so I became more persuasive, "What, did one of the strippers excite you? Was Major Happy standing at attention?"

None of this seemed to faze him, and he looked serious. I became slightly concerned.

"Freddie, are you okay? You look like you just found out that Milli Vanilli lipsyncs. Or that Ryan Seacrest was straight."

"Please don't joke about homosexuality at a time like this?" he said, finally becoming alert.

I tried to contain myself, but instead I burst out laughing. After a few moments of him chastising me with "NOT FUNNY!"s, I calmed myself to a point where I could listen to him.

"Freduardo, does this have something to do with Charlie?" I said, taking his hands between mine. I could almost see his tail between his legs.

"You know?" he said, actually a little shocked.

"Of course I know," I admitted. "What do you think he and I talked about at that party? Oh right, you were thinking about how we were going to do it in his car at the first chance you took your eyes off me."

"I…that was not…okay, leave me alone, I thought he was straight," he said, suddenly becoming embarrassed for a different reason.

"Not that I'm complaining. I mean, your jealous anger turned you into some sort of sex god for the night, but really, when did you turn into such a guy?"

"I've always been a guy!" he said, his voice breaking toward the end.

"Oh yeah? The kind of guy who watches _The Notebook_…"

"You made me watch that! And we made out for almost half of it. _You_ weren't even watching it," he said, making all good points. I didn't even like that movie, I just watched it with him to torture him. But it had worked to my advantage, now more than once. It had gotten him even more whipped up.

But now it was time to bring him down, "Okay Freddie, what did the bad little gay man do to you?"

"He kissed me. With his mouth."

There were so many comebacks I could have made at that moment, but I chose not to. Instead, I decided to help him.

"So, do you think you were attracted to him? Or am I more your…type?"

I helpfully slipped my hand onto his thigh, then around the inside of his leg. He smirked a little bit, and I knew his panic attack was going into remission. Either that, or he was becoming too horny to function.

"I guess a quick kiss between a drunk butt pirate and my sexy self is okay once, but I think I'll let you keep me for a while. You look quite lovely when you're drooling and your hair is all over the place," he messed up my hair a little, and I figured that it was probably the former.

"Did you just call Carly's future brother-in-law a butt pirate?" I asked, removing my hand from his inner thigh and placing it on his knee.

"He violated me. I will call him whatever I want," he said, sounding ever so much like a man.

I crossed my legs over his lap, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Love me?" he said, smiling like an idiot. At first, I smiled too, but then I started to think. That was becoming a problem as of late.

I sat up a little higher as I pulled him toward me. He looked a little confused at my mood change, but he did as I expected and brought his lips the rest of the way to mine. I felt the same spark I'd felt with that first kiss on the fire escape, and every kiss since.

I pulled away, and I felt as awkward as the first time I'd said it when I whispered what I'd been holding back since the second I'd seen him in the hotel.

"Freddie, I love you."

He just smiled and bent down kissing my forehead and my nose before answering, "I love you too."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" I asked, kidding with him a little bit.

I expected him to pull another one of his romance novel stunts and carry me to the bed, ripping of clothes as he went, but Freddie was not Fabio, and instead he moved my legs off of him and got up.

He reached his hand out to help me up, but I was slightly disappointed. We hadn't done anything in almost twenty-four hours, and though our relationship wasn't entirely physical, the guy had been working out the entire time we'd been apart, and I really couldn't help myself.

After glaring at him, I took his hand and he helped me up. I followed him into the bedroom as he walked over to my suitcase and started to rifle through it.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?" I asked, my hands on my hips. I was contemplating whether or not I should put my fist between his shoulder blades while he was turned around.

"Well, since you decided not to put your clothes in the closet like I did, I need to go through this disorganized shame of a suitcase. Why haven't I seen this yet?" He said, holding up a pink lace thong that Mel had thrown in there as a joke. He turned and waited for an answer, but my mouth hung open in surprise. "Right, well, you're wearing it tonight."

I scoffed, but he continued anyway, "Did you bring a dress?"

"I'm going to a wedding, of course I brought a…" I said, mentally logging the items I'd brought.

"You call this a dress?" He said, holding up a gray one I usually wore to work. "Don't you have something a little more…like this."

He held up a dress Melanie had picked out with me that I'd only worn once, to my graduation from law school. I'd never had another occasion to be so dressed up. And now he was handing it to me. It was a white halter dress that skimmed my knees, and Mel told me it made me look like a cross between Athena and Marilyn Monroe.

"I…I can't wear that with pink underwear," I tried, but he pulled up a slip that I'd been smart enough to bring.

He turned around and put his hands on my shoulders, giving me one of those surprising, paralyzing kisses he knew I hated, and said, "Get dressed, we're going out."

He took a hanger out of the closet quickly, before darting into the bathroom before I could even compose my thoughts. It was only then that I thought to shout, "No wonder he made a move on you. What are you, my stylist?"

Deep down I knew that he'd won the argument, but in my head I still had the upper hand. I'd finished it after all. I looked down at the pile of clothes and knew I should listen to him. He must have something planned, and I'm not about to argue with him.

When I heard the knob turn, I panicked, "Close your eyes Fredward."

"Sam, there's nothing you have that I haven't seen. Actually, most of it I've touched, so I don't see…"

"Freddie, I'm already dressed," I interrupted, rolling my eyes. "The one time in my life I want a big reveal, and you're stomping all over it."

He came out of the bathroom, and sure enough, his eyes were covered with one of his hands. I hadn't thought through the fact that now he was unable to see where he was going, and so he just stood outside the bathroom door.

"Do you expect me to just stand here and wait for you to finish?" he asked. I let him wait a few more seconds, looking him up and down while he got more and more impatient. He was wearing dark gray pants with a matching vest, over a white shirt with thin grey stripes. He had a dark gray tie to match, but it was currently thrown haphazardly around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. I was tempted to take a picture for later he looked so good.

I walked over to him, "Come on Stevie Wonder, I'll get you to the door."

I walked behind him, pushing his shoulders, and gave him a good shove into the other room before closing the door. Now it was time to get busy.

I really did like this dress. The only reason it had been in the back of my closet so long was because I never really had chances to wear it. The heels were cute, even by my nonchalant standards, and my job had gotten me so used to high heels, they were almost second nature. Almost.

Lately I had been thankful that I had cut my hair. It only skimmed my shoulders now, which meant it was much easier to take care of. My naturally curly hair also cut down on the time this would take, as I could usually resort to shaking it out and being done with it. Today was special though, and I took a minute and a half to pin up the front few strands.

Make-up wasn't all that tough, and I even managed to use the body shimmer that had sat in the bottom of my make-up bag for months. If I was wearing this dress, I was gonna glow like an angel too. A few sprays of perfume and I considered myself ready. I grabbed my little clutch, loaded with the few essentials I needed for the night, and hesitated at the door to breathe before opening the door.

He didn't notice the door open, and was instead watching ESPN mindlessly. I could tell because the current topic was some scandal some basketball player caused, and he'd never subscribed to the social aspect of sports. He always said that just because Tiger Woods was a scummy guy didn't understate his ability as a golfer.

"Freddie?" I asked, and he jumped up and turned at the same time. There was a look of shock on his face that made me smile. He must have been deep in thought. Slowly, a smile emerged as he looked me up and down. I did a little curtsy and a swirl for good measure.

"You look amazing," he told me, a little breathless. I suddenly had a suspicion that I was blushing.

I took his hands and widened them for inspection, "You don't look so bad yourself."

He chuckled as we swung our arms a few times, then I ducked in to kiss him, missing his lips a little and hitting right on the corner, still turned up in a smile. I pulled back and he just stared for a second before dropping one hand and kissing the other. I saw that his tie was still undone, and carefully looped it in a perfect knot, smiling when his breath stalled at the touch of my fingers on his throat. He cleared it to show he wasn't affected, but it was a thinly veiled attempt.

"Come on," he said, , clearing his throat again and tightening the tie, before taking my hand and leading me toward the door. "I have reservations at this awesome place downtown."

"When did you find time to make reservations?" I ask, remembering to close the door behind us as he hastens down the hallway.

He smirked as he pushed the button on the elevator, "You do realize it's almost five, right?"

I grab his right wrist, knowing that he wears a watch, and sure enough it's 4:48 pm. I haven't slept in this late since high school, and that was a one-time thing. At least I was well rested for whatever Freddie had planned tonight.

When the taxi pulled up to the place, I punched Freddie in the ribs. He'd failed to mention that the "little place downtown" was easily in the most recognizable building in Seattle. It seemed not to hurt him that much, because he snickered in amusement.

"You told me one time that it was your dream to eat here," he said, taking my hand and walking me toward the door.

"But the Space Needle Freddie?" I answered excitedly as he held the door. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were up to something."

"Who said I wasn't?" he said, his trademark smirk playing across his face.

"You worry me," I joked with him as I took in my surroundings. I'd dreamed of this since I was a little girl, staring out the window at the famous landmark. I'd been up here once on a field trip, but only to look out from at Seattle's landscape from the observation deck. This was the first time I was eating at SkyCity.

It really was something to marvel at, the way the restaurant made a 360 degree revolution around the tower every hour. In my head I was calculating how much this meal would cost, as well as wondering how Freddie had gotten reservations with only a few hours' notice. The question was answered when we got off the elevator and he gave his name to the hostess.

"Oh, Mr. Benson! Mr. Emerson told us to take special care of you!" she said, smiling as she led us to a table closest to the full-length windows, the best view in the entire town.

As he helped me into my seat, I couldn't help but chastise him, "You made Parker do you a favor on the eve of his wedding?"

"Of course not!" he said as he took his own seat. "Carly did."

I rolled my eyes, secretly hoping that soon I would have Freddie wrapped as tightly around my little finger as Carly had Parker. With Freddie, I wasn't getting a frozen yogurt empire, but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to get spoiled.

This would be a good place to start, five hundred feet above the city of Seattle. Though usually I would have wished for a clear night, the stirrings of a storm took shape, and the lightning was brilliant against the windows of nearby high-rises. I was so caught up in what was happening outside, I almost jumped when he spoke.

"It's really beautiful," he said, his trademark smirk on his lips. I knew he was basking in the glory of surprising me, and I hoped he realized that it would probably be the last time for a while.

I rolled my eyes, "Okay fine, this is the best view in Seattle. But remember that you're paying for it."

"It is the best view in Seattle," he murmured. "The landscape's pretty nice too."

I leaned back in my seat with awe, "Wow, really? That was extremely cheesy."

"I live for cheesy. You should learn to live with that," he said, chuckling, drawing more attention to our little table every second.

I shook my head, "I don't have to live with anything. I'm not your wife."

As soon as it left my lips, I wanted to take it back. It wasn't so much that he would take it the wrong way, but now the thought was out there. Now we were both thinking about the possibility of marriage and what it would mean. For me at least, the thought wasn't unappealing.

There was a twinkle in his eyes when he calmly stated, "Don't speak too soon. One day you might be."

I sputtered for a moment before deciding to close my mouth, trying to figure what had happened between high school and now that had made him so damn fearless. He showed clear amusement at my shock, before calmly picking up the wine list, perusing for a moment, before asking if I had a contribution. I just smiled and shook my head.

After an awkward assurance from me, he ordered us both the steak and some sort of a red wine with a valley-type name, while I still stood mesmerized by the fact the playfulness of our week back together had suddenly turned to the topic of marriage. But now that I thought about it, we'd already talked about kids. I'm sure at some point I'd mentioned how my ideal wedding would consist of less ceremony. And as of this morning, I'm sure I'd told him I love him. I still couldn't quite shake it as we quietly ate our meal. It was only after we were done that I was able to come out of my coma, still thinking about the state of things, but able to behave more like a human being, making small talk and such.

The thoughts became even harder to shake when a man at a nearby table kneeled down next to the table and proposed to his girlfriend. The shock on her face couldn't be faked, and into was only after a near heart attack that she was able to nod her answer. The whole restaurant applauded, before going back to their meals. But I couldn't. Because now I was thinking about marriage and babies and all the things I never wanted, and how somehow Freddie made me want all of them.

He knew something was up, and he couldn't take his eyes off of me as he took sip after sip of his wine. It reminded me of my own glass, which I picked up, taking a decent swig for courage, before making an attempt at normalcy.

"You know, my grandfather proposed here," I said, before realizing that this particular anecdote wasn't going to help me get my mind off of matrimony. Still, Freddie looked on, interested in what I no longer was anxious to reveal. "I mean, I know my mother was never the commitment type, but that was probably out of rebelliousness. My grandparents have been married almost sixty years now."

"My grandparents were married almost fifty when my grandfather died," he added, pushing me to tell more. "Maybe it's possible there's some romance in our genes after all."

I raised an eyebrow at him, reminding him where we were and why, before continuing, "Well, I guess my grandparents were poor. Not, eating out of the trash poor, but a good working-class, I've had two jobs since I was fourteen poor. And my grandfather brought her up here in her Sunday best and proposed to her. Now, I think he proposed at a lunchtime meal, because it was cheaper, but it was still beautiful and thoughtful. Especially since he spent probably six-months wages between the meal and the ring. And gosh is it a beautiful ring. She's stopped wearing it now, but she used to let me wear it when I was little. Gilded plating surrounding this little diamond, and there were sapphires on either side. He said they reminded him of her eyes."

I looked up then, and realized with shock, that the way he was staring at me was the same way my grandpa looked at my grandma every time she told that story. My mouth dropped a little bit as I realized that I didn't just love him, I was madly, head over heels, tied up in love with him. And that wasn't going to change. I knew that if he asked me to spend the rest of my life with him tonight, I wouldn't even have to think about the answer.

He didn't break eye contact, but reached across the small table to hold my hand, "It is beautiful."

He answered the questions in my eyes with a smirk, one I hadn't seen in a while. This wasn't your run of the mill "I'm up to something" smirk. This was the anxious, life-changing smirk he only brought out for special occasions.

"Freddie, what are you-" was I all I could get out before he pulled a ring box out of his pocket.

"The ring," he said, breaking into a wide grin. "You really did sleep this morning. I had time to visit your grandparents and everything. I was only there to ask permission, but your grandmother insisted."

"But why?" I said, not willing to make the assumptions I so wanted to make. This couldn't be real.

"Well, Sam. Are you still the spontaneous girl who said yes when I asked her to Prom?" he asked, and all I could do was give him a look, my jaw flat on the floor and unable to form words.

I could feel everyone's eyes on us as he knelt down beside me, "If so, Samantha Denise Puckett, will you marry me?"

* * *

"I'm so sorry Freddie"

She's been a broken record for the last ten minutes, and at this point she had nothing to be sorry for. I would be laughing my ass off if it didn't make the blood gush harder.

That's right. I'd forgotten a few of Sam's little ticks while we'd been apart, one of the most crucial being her reflexes, and as soon as I popped the question, she defaulted to her shock mechanism and punched me square in the nose. This wouldn't have been a problem, but as I'd found out long ago, I was prone to excessive bleeding. My necktie had taken the brunt of it, and the napkin the rest.

She was too busy apologizing to me to even tell the nervous waiter what had happened. Thankfully, there had been an entire room of witnesses to the scene. A scene I should be accustomed to by now after knowing Sam for this long.

I was currently sitting in a chair next to the bathroom, where Sam kept running for immense mountains of tissue, enough to have stopped any hemorrhage. She was too busy worrying to notice that the bleeding had almost stopped, and I had to grab her hands to stop her from running about.

She looked at me, and opened her mouth to apologize again, but the look I gave her made her close her lips tightly, though I could tell she still had the words on her tongue. I got up and threw away the tissues, saving one in case, before coming back to her.

I grabbed her hands and kissed her cheek, carefully to avoid my still-sore schnoz, before telling her, "The only thing that bothers me out of all of this, is that I didn't get to hear your answer."

A little taken aback, she stuttered out, "I-I didn't give it."

I pulled out the ring, which had been hastily thrown in my vest pocket, and held it out to her, "Well, what do you say?"

She smiled and looked up at my face, smirking in amusement, "So when's the wedding?"

I chuckled as I slid the ring around her finger, "Whenever you want it to be. We could get married tonight."

I hadn't even realized what I'd said until I looked up again, and saw familiar gears moving in Sam's head. Those were dangerous gears. I was sure of it when she affirmed, "No. We couldn't could we?"

"Sam, are you suggesting we get married…tonight?" I said, chuckling either out of nerves or bemusement.

"I didn't suggest anything of the sort," she clucked as she helped me stand, but finished under her breath. "You did."

She helped me to the hostess's podium, where she asked for the check before handing it to me. I rolled my eyes, though I'd obviously intended on paying from the start. She smiled as she looked down at the ring while I rifled through my wallet, trying to ignore my shaking fingers. She obviously wasn't serious, was she?

After paying, Sam asked the hostess whether the observation deck was open, and when she confirmed that it was, it seemed decided that that was our next stop. I was too baffled at the idea of marriage to argue.

I mean, it had been my idea. And really, I'd rushed into it. It sounds terrible, but my flight was in two days, and I didn't want to leave with a flimsy promise in place. That hadn't worked the last time. I wanted something tangible, and so when I woke up this morning, I decided to go to Sam's grandparents. I had the address, and I intended to ask them for her hand. I wanted to tell my mother that she knew as much as Sam's mother did, and maybe that would console her.

Her grandma was a sweet lady, what I imagined Sam to be in old age. Fiesty, but kind. It didn't take much more than a look to get her permission, and within a few moments she was searching out the ring and telling me the story. I knew that Sam would love to live this out. And I promised that if she said no, I would return the ring. But we both felt that the chances of that weren't likely.

Next I called Carly, giving her the abridged version of my plans. In this version, there was no ring and no proposal. This version just consisted of a romantic dinner before we would have to split up to get things arranged in Boston and L.A. Carly was still trying to find ways around that particular separation. She didn't trust us to get back together, after all of her hard work and meddling.

But then again, neither was I, which is why I committed to this relationship in what was now very obviously the _second_ biggest way I could. I looked over at Sam, who was carefully pulling me toward the windows of the observation deck without interrupting my thoughts. She'd known me long enough to know that I was currently overanalyzing everything, and there was nothing she could do to change that particular trait of my character.

We stared out at the skyline, still flickering with the odd bolt of lightning, until she'd had enough of my silence.

"I know you think it's irrational," she said softly, letting go of my hand just enough to feel her fingertips on my palm. "And it probably is, but I want you to know why I suggested we get married tonight."

"Okay," was all I could provide as an answer. I knew that if she was able to rationalize it, she may convince my brain to follow what my heart was already pulling toward.

"Right now, this moment, up here. It's all ours. Tonight is ours." She said, smiling as she looked up at my reaction, before continuing to explain. "But tomorrow…you know that as soon as Carly finds out, she will want to be involved. And she will do what she thinks is best, but she's Carly, and she will ignore what we want to get what she's thinks we need. And our parents? I know what my mother will do, but yours is a wild card. She'd fake a heart attack to get you to call off the wedding. She would be the one to stand up in the middle of the ceremony to object…and I don't want to give her, or anyone else for that matter, that chance."

Everything she was saying was brilliant and well thought out. Rather than the spontaneous outburst of adoration I'd expected, her mind had been following a very logical path. One that my mind was finding more and more agreeable.

I smirked, "We'd still have to tell them all tomorrow."

She chuckled nervously, "But by then you will be married to a very brilliant lawyer. Not only will we be legally bound, but whatever cockamamie loophole they come up with I can close up."

"So you'd forfeit the big, obnoxious wedding with all the guests and the cake and flowers for just a little ceremony. Just us, the officiate, and the witnesses?" I asked, knowing that if I wasn't sure now, I'd be reminded amidst every fight for the next sixty years.

She dropped my hand and softly laid her hands on my chest, "You just don't get it do you?"

She pulled me into a deep, meaningful kiss before finishing, with a smile on her lips, "That's three more people than I need. All I need is you."

Her kiss and the look in her eyes had me convinced. I smiled and pulled my cell phone out, she looked at me strangely, but I smiled in assurance. I knew exactly how to accomplish this seemingly insurmountable task. I had a secret weapon.

After a five minute conversation with my secret weapon, I had figured out exactly how this was going to go. Sam, on the other hand, was shaking her head while pretending to appreciate the view. She'd never been good at eavesdropping, and she had very little idea of what I was planning.

"So who was that?" she asked, unable to resist.

"That was the guy who's going to officiate the ceremony," I answered, giving her as little information as possible.

She raised an eyebrow, "You know somebody in Seattle that can legally perform marriages?"

Her wording told me that she thought I would muck this up. Leave it to a lawyer to want to make sure her marriage was legal. When I assured her it was legal, she reminded me, "If in twenty years we find out your friend Paco was lying to you about his official status, I am divorcing you on the spot, capiche?"

"Trust me, I have everything worked out," I said, kissing her forehead hoping to comfort her. The worry lines seemed to fade a little, and I was assured that she would go along with what I had planned.

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it, before pulling her toward the elevator. Downstairs I called a cab, but was careful to whisper when giving him the directions. We would be making two stops, one at a jewelry store that was open late, the next at a location I wanted kept secret.

Telling the driver the location reminded me of one of the most crucial elements in the plan. We could not be married without witnesses, and I texted the two I had in mind to make sure they were available.

I asked Sam if she wanted to pick the rings, but she gave me control over the only element grooms usually had control over. It was a heavy burden, but one I could carry well, and I picked two very simple, though not necessarily cheap, rings of white gold to match Sam's ring. It took me twenty minutes, every minute recorded on the driver's tab, and when it was over, I jumped in the cab.

The rings were tucked safely in the breast pocket of my vest as we drove. I knew as we got closer that she was becoming suspect of my plans. When we pulled up in front of familiar doors, she laughed.

"You charming bastard," she said as I helped her out. "Bushwell?"

"It all started here," I reminded here. "I think it's appropriate."

She kissed me again, "It's absolutely perfect."

Spencer buzzed us in as I'd asked, and when we knocked on his door, I found that my plans had been carried out. I could see the large bouquet of lilies on the table, and Spencer assured me that my secret weapon was changing in the guest bedroom.

We were both introduced to Elyse, who, though as stable as Carly had described, obviously had the wild streak you'd need to complete a man like Spencer. She whisked Sam off to the master bathroom, where she insisted on touching up makeup. Spencer had brought out his professional camera, likely spurred by one of his great career inclinations.

"You should be warned that El is a great seamstress," Spencer warned. "I think she wants to change more than Sam's makeup. She's very superstitious. She wants Sam to look different when you see her coming down the…let's just call it an aisle."

"Whatever Sam wants," I answered.

"Oh good, you're on top of that. Nobody warned me. It took me two weeks of sleeping on the couch to understand that concept," he laughed. "Freddie, I wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you guys. And I'm very proud. Just as proud as I will be for Carly tomorrow."

I felt a hug coming, and I opened my arms to allow it. I could ask for no better best man than the man who had practically raised me, albeit unconventionally. My secret weapon came out, and Spencer and I laughed.

"Gibby, you have outdone yourself," I chuckled. And he had. Outfitted in the best of his polyester jumpsuits, his hair was perfectly coiffed and dyed black. For show, his upper lip was vibrating with the soul of The King. I shook his hand, and reminded him to keep his shirt on for the entire ceremony.

He had me sign the marriage license, and then told me to go outside and wait with Spencer. Spencer then dragged me out onto the fire escape before realizing that only one of us would fit once Sam and Gibby were out here. He stepped back into the building, shielding the hallway from my curious eyes.

When it was time, he pulled out his PearPhone and started playing the Wedding March, whispering to nobody in particular, "They have an app for that!"

I couldn't see Sam well until Spencer and I had helped her through the window frame. Spencer had been right. Elyse had turned a few yards of taffeta and bobby pins into a veil, and had indeed touched up her makeup. She looked beautiful, from the tip of each golden hair, to each perfect toe.

Each of us spoke our vows without a note of hesitation, and when it came time to exchange rings, they slipped on without a hitch. The entire ceremony was perfect, from "Tonight we gather" to "til death do us part", each word spoken by one of our dearest friends, who held his Elvis drawl until after he had declared us husband and wife.

In his heaviest drawl, his lip quivering, he announced, "You may now kiss the bride."

As Spencer shuttered away, we leaned in for our third kiss on this fire escape, and our first as man and wife. Like everything else about this night, yes, even my bloody nose, it was perfect.

We laughed as Spencer pitched fried rice at us, before I thanked everyone for their help in making our night. They promised to let us break the news to Carly, and we told them we'd see them the next day at the ceremony. Spencer called us a cab, and soon we were on our way back to the hotel.

The whole thing had taken little more than an hour. It was surreal. Only an hour ago we had been separate entities, as separate as the day we met, when we'd despised each other for the entire world to see. Now we were bound together forever. She was mine.

Her head was on my shoulder the whole ride and my hand held hers, my wedding band pressing into my skin, and I couldn't help but smile. She looked up, and I could see that she was smiling too. I kissed her forehead. Nothing could kill this high.

She hooked her arm in mine as we made our way through the lobby, and I stole a kiss in the elevator. My behavior was bringing to mind "Lovefool" by the Cardigans, and I started to hum the chorus as I scrambled for the key to the room. Sam rolled her eyes and pulled hers out of her little clutch, opening the lock just as I found mine.

She pulled me into the suite by my belt loop, closing the door before trapping me in a drawn out kiss. I reached for the light switch, but she stopped me, and pulled me toward the bedroom, whispering, "Now that we're finally alone…"

We got as far as the bedroom before I stopped her, using every ounce of self-control I had in my body. She ultimately looked disappointed, even more so when I turned the light on and she could see my face. I assumed that it gave away just how caught up I was, and how even I couldn't believe I was stopping it.

"You better have a very good reason for dissuading what might just have been the best sex you've ever had," she said, her hand gripping my shoulders roughly.

"I do!" I gasped, trying to shrug off her hands. "Could you just hold on a minute?"

She rolled her eyes and let go. When I turned to my laptop on the table, she groaned, "We've been married an hour and he's already more worried about his technology than he is my libido…"

I smirked and looked over my shoulder, "And you're already nagging me about it."

She smiled and punched my shoulder playfully, so I went back to what I was doing. I pulled up my music library, and told myself as much as I told her, "Every married couple deserves a first dance."

I knew she remembered the song, and I knew that she knew the lyrics by heart, but this time I changed them. The original lyrics were no longer strong enough. Over John Lennon's twangy vocals, I whispered:

"_And I know you see  
that I will always love you  
and that we, will smile  
when she learns that we are two  
And I fell in love with you_"

She smiled and kissed my lips as the song finished. I took a moment to stare in her eyes, blue and shining, and I told her I loved her. She didn't hesitate to answer. I kept smiling like an idiot, until I finally asked, "Sam, are glad you married me?"

"Yes," she said, punctuating the statement with a kiss on my cheek.

"So you don't regret it?"

"Never," she replied, this time with a kiss on my chin.

"So you don't see divorce in our foreseeable future?"

"Of course not," she said, kissing my nose this time. "What's with all the stupid questions?"

"I just wanted to make sure," I answered innocently, before my smirk gave me away. "Because I am about to take away the possibility of an annulment."

Her answer to that statement was particularly interesting. But I suggest you get your own wife if you want the details, because this one is all mine.

* * *

**Once again guys, I am truly sorry about how long this took to update. All of your thanks can go to my editor and motivator pigwiz, because without her squealing, I would have never finished this chapter. Please leave reviews, even if it is to yell at me :)**


	10. Tears and Tangled Sheets

**Okay guys, this is it. The last chapter of the Prom/Wedding saga. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. So here goes nothing.**

**Chapter Ten: Tears and Tangled Sheets**

It was one of those rare morning where I woke up and opened my eyes wide, staring up at the cracked plaster ceiling. It was obvious that the cracks were decorative. Nothing in this room was here by accident or neglect. Including me and the guy next to me…

It was Freddie, and there was something special about waking up next to him, because this particular morning was the first I could call him my husband.

I smiled immediately and turned over to see that he was doing the same thing. When our eyes met, we both chuckled, and I reached for his hand in the tangled bedsheets. While our fingers were entwined, I felt the metal band of his wedding ring and smiled again. For someone that had always hated commitment, I was overly giddy at being tied to this man, this horribly attractive but extremely dorky man, for the rest of my life.

I started laughing so hard my gut hurt, and he chuckled at my behavior. Eventually I was able to control myself, enough to witness the most loving eyeroll I have ever seen.

"Morning," he said, his face still full of amusement. I rolled over until we were spooning, and he wrapped his arms around me.

"You know, we have a wedding to get to," he said with very little intention. It was obvious he was just as comfortable here as I was.

"Dumb Carly, ruining the first morning of the rest of our lives," I said, picking up his left hand from where it was on my waist and twisting the silver band around his ring finger.

He seemed to be watching me do this, "Well, she did have the date picked first. We're the ones who made this lovely morning into a bit of a marital sandwich."

I turned a little, and he seemed to expect as much when I asked, "Do we have any food around here?"

I moved to get up as he groaned, but we'd done enough rolling around that I was tied up in sheets, "Freddie, do you feel trapped?"

"We've been married less than twenty-four hours Samantha," he answered, only half kidding, and I punched his shoulder.

"The sheets, nubblet. I'm caught in the sheets."

"Then roll out of them," he answered, covering his face with the pillow and making no move to get out of the bed.

I smiled with impish desire, "Okay then."

I rolled toward him as hard as I could, planning to end up on top of him, but I misjudged my propulsion and instead latched onto his shoulders as I rolled us both off the bed. Now that he had ended up on top of me on the floor, his initial reaction of shock had turned into that obnoxious know-it-all smirk of his.

"And how is that working out for you?" Freddie asked, only pressing down on me in certain places, making sure that I regretted my plan for all the wrong reasons. I reminded myself that my best friend was getting married in only a few hours and a continuation of my honeymoon was not enough to miss it.

I rolled my eyes and pushed up, but even with my strength he was too heavy to throw off, and it probably didn't help that he was now holding both of my arms down. Then I politely asked him to get off. It worked like a charm.

"I'm quite comfortable actually," he said, moving his thumb in just a way that it tickled and I jerked my arm before realizing that it was the worst possible thing I could have done. "Oh wow Sam, are you still ticklish?"

"Of course n-" I tried, but I didn't even finish the sentence before he attacked my unprotected midsection, somehow continuing to hold onto my arms with his elbows. Without thinking it through, I did the only thing instinct had ever told me to do.

As he rolled over onto his back I jumped up, "Sorry, must've been a knee-jerk reaction. And by the time I get out of the bathroom I better have a bagel waiting for me or I'm filing for divorce. Toasted. Cream cheese."

Quickly, I grabbed my dress, and on second thought, my Pear Phone. Sometime during last night's festivities, I remember showering, and I have a disbelief in showering more than once a day unless you have a career that involves mudwrestling. Quite scandalously, I did my hair and makeup naked, and I could hear Freddie moving about on the other side of the door, which led my mind to places I promised I wouldn't go until after Carly was married.

When I put the dress on, it looked even better than it had the first time I tried it on. It tugged at me that it wasn't quite as flattering as the dress I had worn the night before, but deep down I knew that I would always be sentimental over my unexpected wedding gown. It was only while I was twirling in the mirror that I heard voices outside, and I could tell Freddie was with someone.

I grabbed my earrings and started putting them as I kicked the door open softly, alerting them to my presence. Freddie was still a mess, wearing pants and an undershirt, with his shirt undone and his tie hanging limp around his neck. He struggled with the buttons at his wrist while trying to listen to Spencer, who was the other voice I had heard.

"I tried to distract her as long as I could, but seriously, you guys need to get downstairs or she's going to lose it…" he was explaining to Freddie as I stepped into the room.

"Did she want us early?" I asked, and they both looked up, for the first time noticing I was in the room. Spencer smiled in approval at my appearance, and though Freddie was smirking, I knew that a small part of his mind was trying to undress me. "It's only 10:32. I thought she wanted us there at 11."

Freddie looked a little ashamed and Spencer shook his head, "The ceremony _starts_ at eleven. Which you guys seemed to hear wrong…or you know, accidently ignored…"

"Oh my god," I said, my best friend instincts kicking in. "Fredward, I know this was your doing and we'll talk about it later, but right now I need my shoes. Button your shirt, would you? Where the hell are my shoes…"

I dove under the bed and found them, before pushing the two men ahead of me and out of the room grabbing Freddie's jacket and thrusting at him as we went through the door. Though the elevator was packed, we had no time to wait for the next one.

In the closeness of quarters, I was pressed up against Freddie and he reached down. He grabbed my hand and held it in just the right way that it calmed me down. When I turned enough to catch his eyes, I realized that I was no use to Carly when I was a mess myself. I took a deep breath and he tried not to laugh. I could tell that it had crossed his mind, as it had crossed mine, that I was more nervous for Carly's wedding than for my own.

Once the elevator opened, I rushed out without letting go of his hand. Spencer had longer legs and fewer responsibilities at the moment, so he went over to the concierge, probably looking for the best Canadian Barbeque in Seattle or something equally as random and distracted.

I started to jog, but I could tell that Freddie was dragging his heels. When I spun around to chide him, his eyebrows went up, "You can't just run through a hotel lobby Puck-"

He caught himself and we both smiled. Normally I would have ignored his suggestion, but now that he had reminded me of just how much I loved him I decided to slow to a speed walk. We were able to find the room where the ceremony was going to be held, but then we were unable to figure out where we were supposed to go. Thankfully, Violet passed me, carrying two bouquets, both in the seven colors that had become Carly's bright scheme.

When I reached out, she looked at me and sighed with relief. I could tell she had been looking for me.

"Oh thank god, I've been looking everywhere. Listen, we're trying not to let it get out, but Carly is losing her shit. She wants to see you," she let out in one great burst of breath. She grabbed my elbow and began to drag me down a narrow hallway toward what I had to assume was the room for the bridal party.

As an afterthought she turned and called over her shoulder at a shocked Freddie, "Oh, and the guys are already at the altar, just through those doors and down the aisle. We'll see you at eleven."

I shoved my hand up in an awkward wave as she pushed me headfirst into the room, where five shocked girls looked up at me. The sixth was sobbing too hard to notice I was here. I went toward Carly as "Yellow" dabbed at her eyes, which were obviously in danger of resembling a raccoon before she could reach the altar.

I finally made it to her and took the Kleenex from the terrified girl, a few years younger and much less experienced with Carly meltdowns than I was. When I grabbed her hand, Carly finally looked up at me and smiled.

"Everybody was worried, but I knew you'd make it. You wouldn't let me down," her smile dissolved back into a sob. "I wish I could say the same for myself."

I looked up at the other girls, who were all watching us like a soap opera. I took one look at Alice and twitched my head. She got the hint and herded the girls outside.

"Now Miss Carly Shay-almost-Emerson, what is the problem?" I asked getting up and finding the eyeliner that I knew was around here somewhere. I knew she had hired someone to do her make-up, but I could do adjustments just as well and between sobs.

"Do I really want this Sam? I mean, I love Parker, but did you see the cameras? He's like Washington royalty. The only job I've had is at a frozen yogurt shop! I'm not meant to handle this!" she said, trying to wave me away as I tried to dab.

"You have a Bachelors in Public Relations. If anybody is well-equipped to handle the publicity, it's you. I mean, I've never seen you take a bad picture, and I've seen every picture from your 21st birthday party…twice."

She chuckled a little and I continued, "Listen, I know this feels overwhelming. You feel like you're standing on this peak, and that as soon as you say 'I do' you'll fall off, but it's not. You're on a bridge. As soon as you walk across it, you'll be somewhere so beautiful you'll forget you were ever afraid to cross the bridge."

She had stopped crying and I handed her the tissue in my hand to dab for herself, "And as far as I'm concerned, there were only three words in that sentence that mattered."

She smiled and looked down shyly, "I love Parker."

"You do," I nodded, and reached out to grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. She gave me a beaming smile, before her eyebrows went crooked and she looked down.

"Sam…" she said, her voice dropping. My stomach dropped. I could handle fixing eyeliner, but I was not equipped to de-puke a wedding dress that cost more than my car. But as soon as I started to worry, she smiled again.

"You _bitch_!" she yelled, and she'd lost me again. She grabbed my own hand and held it up. "It's almost as big as mine, and I can honestly say it was probably a bigger dent in Freddie's wallet than mine was in Parker's."

I realized she was talking about the engagement ring, and I tried to look shocked, but I was too busy smiling at the reminder. Then she seemed to notice something else.

"Oh my _god_," she said before reaching her hand out. "Bitch. Phone. Now."

It was her day, so I looked around and found a purse in a chair near me. When I opened it, I found the latest phone, which was far past my operating level. I handed it to Carly and within a few seconds she had dialed and was waiting for someone to pick up.

"PARKER!" She screamed into the phone, and I could picture him jumping away from it. I could tell he started to say something, but she stopped him, "No babe, it's not about…no, I'm not backing out…babe, I love you but if you don't shut up, this will be the coldest honeymoon since the Roosevelts…thank you. Grab Freddie for a second."

I could hear some stumbling as she paused. "Okay, you've got him? Now punch him. Not in the face…arm?"

I could hear Freddie yelp in the background and I felt reminiscent of our youth. She continued, and I could see what was coming. Sadly, I don't think Freddie could.

* * *

As I rubbed my now sore arm, Parker continued to speak into the receiver calmly. He looked just as confused as I was, but everything was cleared up for both of us with Carly's next message.

"They're married! Look at his hand! They got married last night!" I could hear from a few feet away. A few of the other guys looked up too, looking at me as if I did something wrong.

Parker and I both looked down at my hand and then we looked up and grinned at each other.

He stopped her in the middle of her screaming, and hushed her, "Okay Carls, I'll be sure to congratulate Freddie. Please give Sam my regards. Now I love you, and I will see you in a few short moments. Oh, again, I love you. Thank you for marrying me."

With that he hung up and looked at me. I opened my mouth to explain, but I didn't even know where to begin. But he just smiled and put his arm on my shoulder in the _you rascal_ way I'd seen football players walk off the field after a winning game. Come to think of it, Parker did look like a star quarterback. Maybe I was the kicker.

"When I got you those reservations, I assumed that you were going to propose, but that might just be the shortest engagement I've ever heard of. She's not kidding, is she? And this is legit? You signed papers and everything?"

"No, yes, and yes," I said, choosing not to respond to the first statement. The last thing I wanted to tell him before he got married was that one of the main reasons for our short engagement was his soon-to-be wife's ability to meddle and micromanage.

I smile spread across his face, and he put out his hand, "Let me be the first to congratulate you then!" he said, clapping me on the back hard enough to interrupt my breathing. I smiled nervously.

"Actually, Spencer was there. I swore him to secrecy. I wanted to let you guys have your day," I said, shrugging, making excuses as to why we'd bothered hiding it.

He smirked in understanding, "Well, just know that you are now entitled to call me every year on your anniversary to make sure I remember mine."

We both laughed as the anxious wedding planner came toward us, "Okay boys, come on. Mr. Emerson, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…"

It would have been useless to tell her that Parker was fine. He seemed even less nervous than I had been last night. I hoped he knew what he was getting into, but I knew he loved Carly. Almost as much as I loved Sam.

Once the entire gang of groomsmen had made it back down the aisle, we all found our partners. I caught a few of my comrades checking their ties for the colors of their partner's dress, and one or two of these was followed with a chagrined look when they saw their partner.

I, on the other hand, went straight to my partner, who was smiling. We had a few moments while everyone else got in order to speak, and I asked about the bride.

"Carly was letting the nerves get to her," she answered, then smirked. "But once she noticed my ring, she seemed to forget about all of it. Maybe if you'd gone with a smaller rock, we would still have our little secret."

"Yes, and maybe we wouldn't have a wedding to attend. You're welcome," I said, returning her smirk with my own.

I clenched her hand as the sound of cellos floated through the open door, as the three flower girls started the procession. There was a rumble as everyone in the room stood up to turn and watch. As each couple went, the anxiety pent up inside of me. I caught Sam looking over at me, and she chuckled at my expense before patting my arm. I smirked and the butterflies in my stomach changed occupations from nervous to total enamor.

We followed the others down the aisle, covered in rose petals and over the top, but just as Carly had always wanted it. We stood at the altar for a moment, before sitting. For the first time, I noticed just how many people Carly knew these days, and I was pleasantly surprised that she had even thought of Sam and I to stand up in the wedding. I instantly decided that we would never fall out of touch again.

The amount of giggling that came from the first row of seats was above average as Sam and I played elbows-and-under, a tickling game we'd made up in a similar serious situation. Sadly, the purpose of the game was not to giggle, but there was so much bubbling up between us that it was useless to keep score. At one point, the pastor looked at us like naughty children, and we stopped…for all of a minute and a half.

As they were about to say their vows, Sam called the game over without a word, simply covering my hand with hers. They had written their own vows, and in this setting, even the awkward story of how they met (and how Carly found out that Parker had a peanut allergy) was cute. I found myself smiling, putting my own happiness aside for a few moments of Carly's. I looked over to see that Sam was tearing up, and I leaned down to kiss her forehead, grasping her hand to show that I understood.

As Carly said her vows, she started to cry, and every time she thought she had control she would lose it again. Parker calmly took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at her eyes, before kissing her cheek as she giggled away the tears. It was then I knew that they were soulmates, if I hadn't known before.

Just as the pastor was about to declare them husband and wife, Sam leaned over and whispered in my ear, "They're pretty cute."

"Oh I don't know," I said, knowing that if I agreed with her it would completely screw up the dynamic of our relationship. "They're probably not even the cutest couple married this week."

She grinned, "Oh, you don't say?"

I chuckled as we both turned to see Mr. and Mrs. Parker Emerson take their first kiss of wedded bliss. The look on their faces was one of sheer happiness, and I shared their excitement. I looked back at Sam, unable to stop smiling.

"You know," I said, interlacing my fingers with hers, "when I got on the plane in Boston, this is not how I thought my week would play out. Needless to say, I think this is better than getting drunk and boning a bridesmaid."

"So, are you taking that off the table or…" she said, motioning to her slightly wrinkled bridesmaids' dress as an image of it on the floor of our suite flashed into my memory.

I covered the thought with a smirk, though she could see right past it, "Are you propositioning me with a cocktail-hour quickie Mrs. Benson?"

She winked, a grin spread across her beautiful face, "Well for starters Mr. Benson, maybe you should just kiss your bride."

So I did.

* * *

After another hasty phone call from Spencer and a reshuffling of discarded clothes, Freddie and I headed back downstairs an hour later. The elevator ride down was a lot calmer than the one up, and there were a few more articles of clothing by the time we reached the end of our journey.

We stepped off the elevator and found what seemed to be the end of the cocktail hour. Still, I got a drink before heading into the reception room, which Freddie ended up stealing half of. We took our seats at the front of the room, where we were the last in the bridal party to arrive. The only people missing were the blushing bride and groom.

After the crowd had wandered in from the free booze and took their seats, the lighting was lowered and a spotlight hovered on the doors furthest from our table. As the opening notes to "All You Need Is Love" filled the hall, Carly and Parker burst through the doors, and as they reached the dance floor, the song slowed down to a waltz as they had their first dance.

Our chairs were turned to face the couple turning on the dance floor, and Freddie reached his hand over my shoulder and I grabbed it, kissing his knuckles before looking up at him. For the first time I realized just how lucky I was. He was wonderful, nearly perfect, and on top of that he was my best friend. As he had always been, and as he would always be.

My attention turned back to one of my oldest friends, as she turned on the dance floor with the man she loved. They both looked so happy. They were beaming. It occurred to me that this feeling had probably given Freddie and I away easier than a few pieces of metal. The song finished and he spun her once before kissing her knuckles like the princess she was. This was her perfect moment, and I forgot about my own happiness for just a second and focused on hers. She may have attempted to steal the love of my life a few times, but now she had found hers. Then again, I was directed to the high road as Freddie's hand crept up my back.

For the first time in my life, I had a hard time focusing on my food. It occurred to me to stage a siege like I had at prom so many years before, but then remembered that I was on my best behavior. Turning to look at Freddie, I was amused to see that the thought had crossed his mind as well. We both cracked a smile as our former mischief came back to us, and I threw one pea at his plate for good measure. He made a point of stabbing his fork into it and eating it while watching me. I tried not to giggle, but ultimately failed.

I looked down the table to where Carly was staring at her new husband, and after a moment she must have felt my eyes because she turned toward me. We both smiled, communicating wordlessly that we'd finally found happiness and duly congratulated each other. There also seemed to be a mutual thanks in there, her for inviting me here and only arranging for one suite, me for having the guts to jump first and show her the water was fine.

Parker leaned over to tell her something and she nodded, looking directly past him to the place where Charlie was supposed to be. His food was untouched, and I realized that I hadn't seen him since the end of the ceremony. Parker got up as inconspicuously as he could and came over toward us, bending down to whisper to Freddie. I only caught bits and pieces, but from what Parker said, he needed Freddie's help to dig up Charlie before anybody noticed that the best man had ducked out. Freddie wiped his mouth and got up.

I followed their progress over to the bar, where Parker spoke to the bartender who pointed out the doors. Freddie turned to face me and smiled, but his worry was evident. He may not have gotten a degree in PR like Carly had, but we both knew enough that to know that to have Charlie Emerson disappear from his brother's wedding would cause trouble. He nodded to me, then followed Parker out into the lobby.

* * *

"I can't believe he would do this," Parker said, anger and hurt evident in his voice, as he strode purposely toward the front desk of the hotel. The men working tonight were much older than the girls that had checked us in. They were probably managers, called into to handle the busy night; the busy night that only seemed to be getting busier.

I followed a step behind him, quickly coming to terms with the fact there were very few men in Parker's life he could trust, and somehow I'd made the short list. I felt a fraternal need to fix this for him. Charlie was going to hear from me once he was found.

The bartender had told us that Charlie had taken a bottle of champagne and a waiter and left. The waiter's job was at stake, but more importantly, so was the Emerson's reputation.

The man at the desk said he'd asked for a room upstairs, and Parker, in turn, asked for the man to open the door. The man stressed regulations, but Ben Franklin convinced him otherwise, and soon he had a master key and was leading us to the elevator.

On the fourth floor we got off, and somehow Parker was a step ahead of the manager as we headed down the hallway. A burst of laughter signaled Charlie's location, and Parker broke into a sprint. I looked at the manager and took only a second to grab the key out of his grasp and sprint after Parker. When I made it to the door, he was poised to break it down. I got between him and the door and looked at him, trying to get him to calm down, before deciding that it was far too late. Without knocking on the door, I slid the pass key and opened the door.

Before I could move out of the way Parker was in the room. The manager finally caught up and I threw him the keys, before preparing to get between two men who could individually kick my ass. I saw a man dart into the bathroom, dragging on a pair of boxers. His deep tan skin told me that this must not have been Charlie, who would have been given away by his rosy Malibu tan.

Charlie was standing in the center of the room now. His shirt was lying on the floor, but his pants were still on, albeit unbuttoned. He had a smug look on his face, like he almost enjoyed being caught. He was also clearly inebriated, and when I spotted the bottle of champagne, it was nearly empty. I could see Parker's hands close into fists and his forearms tense as he prepared for a fight. I had to step in.

"Parker, it's not worth it," I said, and they both looked up, unaware I was there. I continued, "You have a room full of people that love you and want to see you downstairs. If this asshole is selfish enough to abandon you on the happiest day of your life, it's his problem. I'll start the coffee maker, and when José gets out of the bathroom, Charles here is going to take a nice cold shower. We'll meet you downstairs."

Parker looked between Charlie and I before nodding and heading toward the door. In the time it took for Parker and Carly to cut the cake, I hoped to wipe the smirk off of Charlie's face, one way or another.

I walked over to the bathroom door and pounded, and the guy emerged fully dressed but unable to meet my eyes. He slid past me and out of the room without a word. I closed the door behind him before turning toward Charlie. The smirk still hadn't disappeared.

"You're an asshole," I started. My earlier intention was to start with "And what do you have to say for yourself?" but it sounded like I was talking to a child, and though Charlie's child-like behavior was deceiving, we were both grown men. I walked over to the coffee maker and started making coffee, hoping to sober him enough to at least appear at the reception.

He reached for his shirt and chuckled, "You know, I've been called worse than that."

"What, like a disappointment?" I asked, and though he kept a brave face I could tell that I'd hit a nerve. "You know, I've met your father. Real nice guy, real _upstanding_ guy. I bet he loves having a PR nightmare like you on his hands."

Charlie reached for what was left of the bottle of champagne and I let him. This was about to be some real tough love, and it was gonna hurt whether he was sober or not.

"You know that story of the prodigal son?" he said. Even though he was drinking, he was getting sober through his thoughts. "It's bullshit. Absolute bullshit. I could come back a million times, and Parker would still be the best. The best at everything. After my parents had him, I don't know why they bothered with another son."

I didn't know what to say to this. I'd expected as much, but I still didn't know what to say. I'd never had a sibling, and I'd monopolized my mother's attention since the day I was conceived. But still I had to try.

"Does Parker know you feel this way?" I said, coming up with the only foreseeable solution.

"If he doesn't he should. Stanford-educated prick, no observational skills whatsoever. The guy didn't realize I was gay until I started hitting on his friends," here he started smiling, remembering something. "I forgot about that."

I prodded him on with a look, and he continued, "You know, Parker was the first person I really came out to. I mean, lots of people assumed, but it's a totally different monster to come out and say the words. Parker was the first."

"How did he take it?" I asked, curious as to what my own response would be.

Charlie laughed, "He said he was glad that we wouldn't have to fight over girls. The first thing out of his mouth. Not the stereotypical, 'Are you sure?' or 'Why?'. From the very beginning he was supportive. Mom and dad kicked me out for a week, cut me off too. Parker paid to put me up in a hotel, visited me every night. I was only seventeen at the time. I found out later that every night, before he visited me, he went back and tried to convince my parents to take me back, and to accept me no matter what. Somebody on hand said he threatened to leave. He told dad he wouldn't take over the family business. He'd just leave and take me with him. I owe him a lot."

"I doubt he ever thought of it like that," I said, finding more about Parker every moment. He was a really good guy.

"No, I don't think he did," Charlie said, before taking on a look of purpose that was very similar to the one I'd seen on Parker earlier. "You know Fred, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I'm going to fix this one if I can. Do you have a pen?"

I pointed to the desk where the hotel stationary was and he nodded, "Go on downstairs. I'll be down in ten minutes, I swear."

That was the first time I'd heard Charlie make a promise I believed he'd keep.

* * *

Freddie slid into the seat next to me, just as Parker's father rose to give a speech. Lieutenant Shay and Spencer had given theirs, followed by Alice, and I could tell that everyone was dragging it out as long as they could in the hope that Charlie would appear. I myself was doubtful.

He didn't even acknowledge me as he sat down, instead staring intently at Parker's father. I could tell he was attempting to catch Parker's eyes, and his peripheral vision never wavered from Parker's profile. After he caught Parker's eye and nodded, he finally turned to me.

"So what happened?" I asked, curious as to where he'd been for the last half hour. Two empty seats at the head table had caused a noticeable stir among prying guests.

"I'll give you the details later, but everything's fine," he said, patting my hand. He seemed to think that would remove my doubts.

Mr. Emerson's speech started to dwindle, and we could all tell he was avoiding the inevitable end where the best man's speech would be. When he could hold out no longer, the panic was clear on his face as well as Parker's, who looked desperately at Freddie. Unexpectedly, Freddie stood up and spoke.

"Well folks, I'm obviously not the best man. I might be a good one, but to be the best, you'd have to be related to Parker," he started, as I began to drown in provolone. "I haven't known Parker for very long, but I've known Carly my whole life, and after only a few days of seeing them together, I have no doubts that they were destined to be together. Carly can be hard to handle, but Parker has enough patience for both of them. And in every picture I've seen in those hoity-toity magazines you two are always in, Parker never smiles, unless he's with you. Not to be overly cheesy, and I try my best not to quote Tom Cruise, but I think you guys complete each other, and I wish you many happy years of wedded bliss. I would like to go on, but instead I'm going to turn the floor over to the second best man in the room, Charlie."

Our heads all turned to see Charlie, cleaned up and holding what looked like a novel in his hand. Freddie had distracted the guests just long enough for Charlie to finish his speech, and his face was smug with achievement when he sat down again.

"Well everyone, I hope you're enjoying the wedding so far. You better, because this is going to be the last Emerson wedding for a long time. From my behavior, or at least what makes it to the headlines, I'm sure you can see that I'm unfit for family life. But you two aren't, and your kids will be both smart and beautiful, all thanks to Carly of course."

I looked over at Parker who was smiling directly at his brother. Carly was staring at him too, and I think we all realized that this speech was for Parker alone and the rest of us were merely observers.

"But Spencer had the privilege of talking up the bride, so it seems to be my duty to flatter my brother, the charming Parker Winthrop Emerson. I wish I could tell you that he was a horrible kid, or that Carly was only the most recent in a revolving door of beautiful women that have been in Parker's life, but I can't. Parker is a Saint, which would explain his frequent training sessions in New Orleans. I hope that's the right city Parker. You know I'm no good with sports teams. I only watch football for the padding. False advertising if you ask me."

He paused for laughter, an impish smile on his face, before he looked up, his facing going serious, "You know, sometimes I wonder how Parker and I could be brothers. We're so very different. And though I can only confirm the existence of god on a day-to-day basis, I can say this. God made me Parker's brother, and I'm damn lucky for it. He's brought me up out of holes no man could climb out of alone, and he's never made me feel indebted to him. Because to Parker, it's all part of the job description. I can't begrudge him of his sainthood, because he has personally saved me on many an occasion."

Parker tipped up his glass as his eyes glistened over with emotion. They had a moment before Charlie continued, "Now Carly, I know you knew what you were getting into when you married this guy, but what you might not have realized is that I'm part of the package. I'm the Loki to this guy's Thor. You may wake up and find me passed out on your couch from time to time. But it will comfort you to know that, as Thor, your husband is my hero. Also, I am willing to help him move said couch when you get in the mood to redecorate, and from childhood it has seemed that my allegiance lies with whoever is holding the frozen yogurt. From that description I think the room has decided that I should be adopted as your puppy, and live forever in such a happy home as the one that all of your children will have. I love both of you, and you deserve all the best in each other. Woof."

He raised his glass as everyone followed, dabbing at their eyelids through chuckles. Parker stood up to applaud, before getting up to hug his brother.

Within a few moments, it was time to cut the cake, and the couple cleanly fed each other forks. A look toward Freddie confirmed that had we followed this tradition, we would have both been covered with frosting.

After the cake came the ceremonial dances. First Carly and Lt. Shay, then Parker and Mrs. Emerson, which both brought tears to my eyes. Then the couple went out to the center of the room, under the assumption of having another spotlight dance. Instead, I noticed Carly was holding a microphone.

"Excuse me, but could Freddie and Sam Benson come to the center of the dance floor please?" she said, and it took me a moment to realize she was talking about us. We both hesitated, but stood up, afraid of what she could come up with if we didn't. He took my hand and we walked out to where they were standing.

"I've known these two wonderful people my whole life, and for almost as long it was obvious that, like Parker and I, they were meant for each other. When we were in high school, they shared their first kiss, and Freddie asked Sam to Prom, on a dare of course. Who dared him, you may ask? Well, that was me. These two have had a meddling fairy godmother, ever since the beginning. I went so far as to arrange a single suite for them to share the week of my wedding. Now, I'd hoped that so much time together would rekindle the flame they'd once had, but little did I know to expect a forest fire. Last night, without telling anyone, these two ran off and got hitched. Some would call it an elopement, but that sounds so spontaneous and dramatic. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has seen this moment coming from the very beginning, so I would hardly call it spontaneous. Anyway, as my last act as fairy godmother, I wanted to give you guys this dance. Congrats to you guys, and Sam, I hope your husband never lets mine forget an anniversary."

They stepped off the dance floor, and I was tempted to follow, but Freddie grabbed me. I could hear the song starting, and was surprised that Carly had known. I could see tears in her eyes as she fulfilled the lyrics.

I looked up at Freddie and smiled before kissing him softly. Not enough to disgust Carly's guests, but enough to turn them on. At this thought I smiled, and Freddie's smile gave away the same thought before he whispered again, like he had that night in the driveway and again the night we were married…

_So I hope you'll see, that I would love to love you  
And that she will cry, when she learns we are two  
If I fell in love with you._

* * *

**Well guys, that's it. That's all folks. I can't believe it's over. This story has taken on-and-off two years, and in that time Osama Bin Laden was killed, I graduated high school, and most importantly, Seddie has gone canon. Even with that on the books, I hope that my little story meant something to someone along the way. Also a quick thank you to the Cabal, because under their pressure this chapter would have never been finished. Today is the loveliest of mass posts, and I suggest you check out some of their work:**

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